On the Dock
The setting sun
red and rippling
like a gunshot wound that can’t be staunched.
Clumps of bloodied gauze
litter the sky
as we nurse these beers
and dip our feet
into the clear
calm water.
The setting sun
red and rippling
like a gunshot wound that can’t be staunched.
Clumps of bloodied gauze
litter the sky
as we nurse these beers
and dip our feet
into the clear
calm water.