DRIFTWOOD

DRIFTWOOD

There are days for sailing
Where girls with ample breasts
Succeed at diverting you

From the sad business
Of life inside your skin

Drift along, son,
Like some
green, bewildered apprentice

The beaches welcome you
With warm sand and sensuous foam

The days teem with make believe

City lasses,
disguised as island natives,
Feed you tropical fruit beneath the palms

There are days for sailing virgin thoughts
Into a lover’s waiting ear-

There are days for watching
the driftwood float ashore.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2011
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED