|
Comment on this
article
Waves
by Janice D. Soderling
In single file at dawn,
they walked down to the water.
Some with fear. All with hope
that luck would soon be better.
They climbed aboard a wooden crone,
no seaworthy freighter.
They left and now are gone.
See how the blue waves glitter.
None could swim. They're desert folk.
Plain and simple slaughter.
You cannot see where they went down.
All you see is water.
Return to:
|