365 Days of Poetry: Day Two-Hundred and Thirty-Six

the ocean calls to him.
twenty years along the waves.
the wind whips a shouldered blanket.
but there is one last look to be saved.

the road calls to all.
to replace what is known.
if you don’t grow roots.
there’s no way to lose a home.

the holes call to them.
sand crabs out with the tide.
when you feel small.
more stock is put in pride.

the ocean calls to them.
an ever changing home.
always five miles from land.
so you don’t feel alone.

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About June Faramore

Writer of fantasy, mainstream, and young adult fiction. Poet and sketcher. Mother. I read a lot and love cheese. Guitar playing singer-songwriter. I also enjoy stepping on the cracks in the sidewalk. View all posts by June Faramore

this side, that side

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