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In the Waiting Room

"I know it's high time for a hurricane tide."

By Suze KayPublished 3 years ago 1 min read
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In the Waiting Room
Photo by Vicko Mozara on Unsplash

The last time we came, your neighbor’s plastic

Florida pink flamingos had been carried away

by a hurricane tide, or maybe an act of God.

//

They’re back.

They stare at the smooth again beach, which has lost

its rocky storm dress of nets and bones and house parts.

They are lopsidedly begging for the next natural disaster,

which will relieve them of their misery.

Florida.

//

Sometimes I catch you staring at the sea,

your eyes assimilating into Florida too.

I know the dunes have grown past my waist.

I know it’s high time for a hurricane tide.

I know you’re tired,

but don’t beg yet.

sad poetry
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About the Creator

Suze Kay

Pastry chef by day, insomniac writer by night.

Find here: stories that creep up on you, poems to stumble over, and the weird words I hold them in.

Or, let me catch you at www.suzekay.com

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Comments (1)

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  • Karissa E.L. Cuff8 months ago

    This is incredibly poetic and well written.

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