BIBMAN'S BEACH
OF THE DAY
Here I go again; weathering a storm, eating
at broken tables. Walking where the errant
soldiers died, I see a plaque saying they were
buried here. Found after exposure, dead -
abandoned, hungry, wounded and foul. The
National Oak has nothing on them. I walk
away wanting more. The distant sea is rolling
in, near here, the waves yet smash the shore.
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