Urban Poet

Come hear the sound
where the land caresses the sea
and the waves in their charge
break and are no more
where the wind moans its chant
and the tall grass moves in a beat
no one can see.

Come hear the knell
of a time that never was free
and hear of a life that was spent
like a wave that crashed on the shore.

Come hear the sound
where the land caresses the sea
and greet the wind as it cries in its time
like the woman who never was free.

©  Coastpoet

A wonderful gift from a very dear friend.