Wednesday, 20 April 2016

1 Poem by James Freitas

Musings of May 

A name traced by a toe where the sand meets the tide.
Nothing more, it falls in on itself. 

Eroded by the ocean’s intransigent indifference,
even the most adored will corrode. 

The wide, wet, eraser of the world wipes out the days,
months, places, the intricacies of faces. 

Before long the ridges are flattened, forgotten.
Names traced are now blank 

Until the pebbles and grains
are manipulated again—but, again 

We know they will only erode. 


Bionote

James Freitas is a New England poet currently residing in northern Massachusetts. His work has appeared in The Santa Clara Review , Crab Fat Literary Magazine , and The Commonline Journal. James is currently working on a full-length collection titled Te(xt)lesthesia

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