Sue Goyette: Six poems - from Ocean nine The idea of home was so big, so bottomless, carpenters had to tie a rope around their waists for fear of being swallowed whole by the houses…
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
On her demise
You must let me go first because I live in the sea
always now, and know the road.
No matter which way you slice it,
the story doesn't change.
Forever miserable, my blasted flower
your petals all are blown.
Photos were taken in West Quoddy, Nova Scotia.