Home » Poetry » Day 326 – Willow Beach

Day 326 – Willow Beach

Every bird has gone to Willow Beach.
They leave St. Anthony’s dull and in the nude.
The cathedral I remember’s just
a tunnel ramming through
an open wound.

Willow Beach, I don’t know anything about it.
But it’s nice here, too, and quiet.
I can hear their echoes if I try.

St. Anthony’s, I don’t live there anymore.
The birds held it up, wall by wall,
but I don’t think anybody missed them
when they got bored.

I don’t think anybody noticed when they left.

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