Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Poetry

By: Barbara Caceres

beach painters

You can’t find beach glass on this beach anymore
the artists have taken it
carried it away by the bucketful
hidden it in the closets of their bungalows
convincing themselves
it can no longer be shared with the world.
And the beach combers cry for the lack of it
empty pockets at the end of a summer’s day
stories made up to pacify the children
“Giant whales are using it for missing teeth
and eyes”
but the artists understand suffering
behind painted windows
they blow their fears up chimneys
and toss handfuls of glass into the fire.

 

 

 

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