Volume III, Issue I Spring 2004


No More

I am but the shell of a once proud ship,
I was wrecked one stormy night on an ocean of love.
I am but a dry, sunbleached frame, collecting sand as I sleep and dream of the past
Now sensitive to memories, I cry when the wind presses itself against my weathered hull,
Time passes and leaves its mark upon the face of my cabin,
Cracks and wrinkles show my age,
I am too old to sail again.


Spring 2004 Poetry Section | Spring 2004 Main Page
Current Poetry Section | Current Home Page