Outstretched fingers flew by <br />in the muddy gloop. <br />Trees curled back, under strain <br />of two people, now bound <br />by a common blackness. <br />I don't know you, hold my hand. <br /> <br />Many vanishing seas counted <br />one, two <br />then wielded a fierce revenge <br />upon the earth, <br />knocked it off its perch. <br /> <br />The glass was shook and <br />dessicated humans floated <br />a myriad in the little ball. <br />Bloated they fell to the shore <br />as the raging floor of the ocean <br />sucked back a vomit. <br /> <br />Cracked shells, sun-seared <br />lay upon the settled sand, <br />crimson-coated, <br />flung and spun in the flood, <br /> <br />Arms straddled, calling up. <br />What did you hug <br />before the ocean pulled <br />its continental plug? <br /> <br />Wrapped into each other, <br />this tender horror scalpels <br />all the more, bodies <br />blistered and scored. <br /> <br />Babies sleeping, all <br />peaceful on a drunken shore.<br /><br />Sonja Broderick<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/waterwall/
