{a Golden Shovel poem}
The sun has risen once again, and I
am full of spin and the too-tried must
-y scent of syllables with not enough to say.
Today, there’s nothing like the quiet I’m
keeping, held here fast by the dangerous damn
-ing dawn of the torn, the wicked worn, and tired.
..
For Mish’s awesome “last lines” prompt at dVerse, a Golden Shovel poem using The Cruel Sea by Nicolas Monsarrat (1951). The book’s last line reads: “I must say I’m damn tired.” I have not read the book; I bought it for its beautiful old turquoise cover, to eventually smudge up with erasure poems.
