Member-only story
Plum Island in August
1 min readSep 18, 2020
Sea foam collects
on the beach in ragged bands
like tree rings
telling you how long
the day has been.
Vacant homes bleach
in the sun, held down
by gill nets
and two hundred thousand years
of limestone.
In the middle of it all,
a rotting water bottle
wears a pink ribbon,
all dressed up for the ball,
watching seagulls
with their three toes
waltz in time, constantly calling
for an absent waiter
to come around
and refill the drinks.
© Trapper Markelz 2020
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