Wednesday, September 16, 2009

536. STEEL

STEEL
I walked past the old mill, the old palace, and
the old bowling alley - where everything now
had fallen in. A roof turned into a floor and seagulls
roaming freely, the less-than-distant splash
of the ocean frothing in. As if, in some demented
vacation scenario, the sea had moved ashore,
the cowboy hats on the horsemen, the horses
within the carousel, even the broken bulbs
once lighting the roof line, had corroded and
died in a sea-salt reverie. Doom dripped like
salt water from every metallic surface.
Was someone screaming, or just
the gulls along the shore?

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