Eleventh Hour
by DCDave

The midday sun behind the clouds
Gives out so little light
The scene is like a photograph
That's done in black and white.

The candy shops are boarded shut.
The Ferris wheel is still.
The unimpeded northeast wind
Imparts a bitter chill.

The sand is cold beneath my feet,
But the waves are still alive,
And the restless sea
Enraptures me
As I stand and wait
And contemplate
The chance that you'll arrive.

David Martin

The Bird The Bird Poetry DCDave's Homepage DCDave's Poetry DCDave's Poetry 2
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