A Pier No More

an original poem by Christina Ward

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

We were an old pier, standing in the sea,
pilings caked with barnacles, ravaged by the currents,
our foundation weak. We waited for the tides to displace us,
unplug us from our feeble grip on shifting sands…
for the sea to bring us to our knees.

The sandy currents burn with salt life
nibbling our shins and worming its way in,
the moon setting our time clock spinning,
one massive watery shift after another.

Age and weather befell us. Our wooden rot
compelled us to fall — can we be blamed for this?
I crawled upon the skin of sand to the edge
where water ebbed, rose and smashed upon itself.

I could have buried our secrets, there in the sand.
The sand crabs scattered and danced sideways across
the rise and fall, into holes that swallowed them up.
They took no mind of me.

The ocean now digests that which was us.

I wrote my name there
— (on the beach
where forgiveness was more vacant than the
roar of a shell)
with scrapings and clawings on malleable sand
I am mere letters; a pier no more.
I walked away, salt stinging in my pores.

Expert navigator of the road less traveled ◼ Owner 𝓕𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓵𝓮𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓼 & 𝓕𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓼 𝓦𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓢𝓮𝓻𝓿𝓲𝓬𝓮𝓼 ◼ https://linktr.ee/fnfwriter 💗POMpoet💗

Expert navigator of the road less traveled ◼ Owner 𝓕𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓵𝓮𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓼 & 𝓕𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓼 𝓦𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓢𝓮𝓻𝓿𝓲𝓬𝓮𝓼 ◼ https://linktr.ee/fnfwriter 💗POMpoet💗

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