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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 3909 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention Lot’s Wife Lisa Janice Cohen You can die of thirst as easily in the ocean as the desert. The sting of salt on broken skin, the same. Once, you refused my tears-- you asked me what use water was to a drowning man. I had nothing else to offer, not even the certainty of tides. You wandered west, found night-blooming cactus and tequilla. I stayed with the sea, worried a handful of sand in my pocket. I sift the grains you sent from Arizona with the beach on Block Island. The wind rises, coats my face and hair with brine, stiffens wet clothes as I stand, always looking back. |
