Saturday, January 16, 2021

Endless Days by John Drudge

He lay down and stared
At the light feathering of sand
Against the flat rock
High on the beach
Near the coco plumb trees
The ash beauty 
Of the fading day
Setting a mood of blue shadows
On the rolling water
In the bay
And the breeze from the sea
Salty and sad
With the sun dipping down
Below the memory
Of endless days





John is a social worker working in the field of disability management and holds degrees in social work, rehabilitation services, and psychology.  He is the author of three books of poetry: “March” and “The Seasons of Us” (both published in 2019) and New Days (published in 2020). His work has appeared widely in numerous literary journals, magazines, and anthologies internationally. John is also a Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominee and lives in Caledon Ontario, Canada with his wife and two children.




1 comment:

  1. The speed does seem so endless. Change disguises itself as nonexistent. Until suddenly the afterness has gobbled so swiftly, so quietly noninvasively the day that has just as quietly disappeared the precious friends, gangs of little nows we will never really know. Thanks for your contribution to the me who provoked really this blathering comment.

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