Camp Helen

When he was there, the others were asleep.
The beach was empty, but for gulls and waves;
The morning tide receded in the deep
As music written on the ocean's staves

With all the somethings that had been amiss,
Beside these pillars, once a mighty pier,
He knew, some way, they'd get through all of this -
Like standing promises
Of yesteryear

Tagged: Tags

Leave a Reply