It's just poetry, it won't bite

The Lure

01.28.13 Posted in today's words by

Fred Chandler’s poem Demulcent appeared here in December 2012.

The Lure

By Fred Chandler

On the wet beach
in front of me
A grey bird walked
on the sand
Leaving its foot
prints behind
Then the grey bird
walked into the
last remnant of
a wave
The bubbling of
foam
Which covered over
the bird’s tracks
Then it just flew off
staying very low to
the ocean water
Where it would
disappear into
a dark diaphanous
horizon
That was when I lost
sight of everything


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