Shoals
On shore I like to sit
Entranced by the evergreen algae
That someday became erect
And gained self-awareness;
The time it took stretched to the bottom of the sea.
The time on the order of billions,
When even the sun will give out.
Alas.
But I must,
Because of the hour today,
Hurry within,
For I hunger for shrimp,
Smelling it's nearly done,
Smelling it's my turn.
poem by Stan Petrovich
Added by Poetry Lover
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