Yellow Sting

March 25, 2008
By Christopher Clark, Cassopolis, MI

Clouds wash over the eerie black sunset,
Gulls cawing through the rays of light.
All was calm, but none was right;
A ship was due to port tonight.

Late upon the Miser's crow,
The waves crashed blow by blow.
We feel the sorrow, the night-filled dread,
But faith's far light fills our head.

Grass of green with a yellow sting,
Sand of gray and blue,
Dying winds flying too,
With an ending straight for you.

The bow striking mists of green,
Nothing was aboard.
We try to feed our kids again,
It's been so long since we have soared.


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on Nov. 17 2010 at 8:52 am
Nice poem i might use it in a contest


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