The Tide, Part II

There on the beach some thousand
years later, where Jesus in his new
robes stood, paced the shore to
watch a new tide swell and toil,
smooth rough and tall stones flat, we
watched too and bravely bore a
turmoil: “This is where broken ships
bed, this is where halos from our
hidden enemies merge, this is where
the whirling whirlpool ends.”

Thanks for checking out my poem.

Did I tell you I wrote a novel? You can also donate some of your hard-earned dollars down below—that’s money to me, for free!


Gabriel Muoio


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