Some are men of no bodies
But light’s shadows at dawn,
Pointing their vague fingers
At the shadows in a far sea.
Others live a death moment,
As dead turtles of live crows.
Some are just fishes caught,
In the men’s upper moment.
A few are silhouettes at sea
Gaining entry to inner heart.
Others rock inside the sea,
Flaunting their green dress.
Poetry By The Sea 