9.25.2007

Salt Smoke

I remember salt smoke from a beach fire
And shadows under the pines--
Solid, clean...fixed--
Seagulls perched at the tip of land,
White upon green...
And a wind comes through the pines
To sway the shadows;
The seagulls spread their wings,
Lift
And fill the sky with screeches.
And I hear the wind
Blowing across our beach,
And the surf,
and I see that our fire
Has scorched the seaweed.

- Frank Herbert

2 comments:

Tania said...

Hope you're having a great friday!

CraZgamer902 said...

This is a punk rock song isnt it?