Cape Canaveral Coast

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

He looks between the seagrape bushes’ limbs

A path straight down to ocean waves, their white

Foam frills stretched out to welcome death, its whims

That swallow swells.  The undertow as sleight

Of hand kills little breakers, crashing each

That travelled countless miles across the sea,

And now they die upon the white sand beach,

Their salt as lace in dying seconds, spree

Of life crushed down in bubbles on the shore.

Above this scene a gantry for a launch

Of rockets is the only clue of more

Than cruelties hinted in the empty conch.

  The missiles hint at planets and their moons

    Beyond the seagrapes, waves and hot sun dunes.