poetry, writing

Driftwood

What was full of life, drifting, lost to the sea,

Now lodges on white sandy shores.

Rocked by waves, bleached by sun,

hollowed by age and weather.

The heron perches,

watching the waters near,

a perfect place to spy

to find its next dinner.

The crabs and sealife make their home,

A breakwater to catch seashells forms.

A treasure trove of life can now be found.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s