Life After Death

Poetry

Image for post
Image for post
author photo, 2019

Father’s Day was Sunday,
we spent it on the beach,
a campfire, roasted marshmallows.
In the distance, a dead whale
rotted, deflated and green,
picked at by gulls
that scattered like blown leaves
at each passer by.
Later, an eagle glided overhead,
so close, I could almost
touch it.

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