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Darkened Plains of Shifting Sand

Boats resting on turf of dried up surf,
tattered sails no longer in reach.
Lifeless motion unreal, with broken keel,
their hulls all rotted and breached.
The stories they tell from their empty shell
waterlines fading in blistery sun.
Rails rusted aloft with a bridge falling off,
Her ribs splayed open like a carcass done.
A graveyard makes plea to an empty Sea,
offering up all it's shattered remains.
"Take my keel take my bow, as time will allow,
     Let the sand reminisce my darkened stains."
 
by Barry Anderson