Cleaving on an Island
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
The house on Merritt Island stood alone
On sand. No doubt the sand had sandspurs set
Among the weeds. Like a ramshackle throne
It ruled the landscape almost as a threat.
Decaying slowly in the sea spray, though
Beside the sun and wind and rain, that salt-
Struck wood resisted lashing, cracking blow
Of thunderstorms and hurricanes to halt
Longevity. The rumor was that just
A man and woman lived inside but slammed
In separation, married but then trussed
Apart by hate, the two with hatred crammed.
..The splitting timber is as slow as their
….Disgust to die, this joined separate pair.
~ Phillip Whidden