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The Sea At Night

Poetry By: Michael Atkinson

A poem.

Submitted:Dec 14, 2011    Reads: 21    Comments: 5    Likes: 3   

Dryly coarse voices rasp over wooden guitars,

Their tingling melodies echo within the night,

I see fires littered across the beach,

Glowing like sun jewels,

Where do I sit tonight?

I follow the sound of shrill voices to the surf,

The sound of breaking waves falls against me,

It calmly nourishes and sooths,

Naked swimmers in the dark waters,

Their torsos shining blue under an almost white moon,

My clothes fall to the shingle and I run into the mystery,

As each wave sweeps into me I shiver in the breeze,

People drag burning logs along the shore,

Sparks scatter in circles in the air,

Fires reflected in the sea,

Calling to me,

Then there is no floor beneath my feet,

I am out of my depth,

I am sinking,

Deeper and deeper I fall as if in slow motion.

The voices of the dead cry out to me,

They tell me to join them,

Terror touches my heart,

A hand clasps my hair and drags me back to the surface,

The fires warming me,

The beers kindly cool,

I don't pick a conversation,

There is always really only one,

One and all like music,

Guitars and drums now,



Deep in my soul,


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