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Jan 15
poem 2 comments challenge: Climate
Fire83

In memory of a living ocean

The sun beats down,
leaving my skin a strawberry color.
It is summer and we are at the beach,
feathers fall loose from seagull wings,
excited children run giggling and gathering them,
build sand castles of our world.
In a way childhood is one of those feathers,
bringing such joy,
such happiness to our eyes.
The water rushes in and out, in and out, placing my breath in the air
like a symphony.
I scratch my burnt skin 
and listen to the sound of nails on an old map.
Our world is warming and warming
until we return to the earth as sand once again.

 
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Posted: 01.15.20
About the Author: Fire83
“We realize the importance of our voices only when we are silenced.” Malala Yousafzai
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Discussion

Comments

  1. doug.demaio
    Jan 15, 2020

    Cool piece. It has a nice sound to it. I think where you say "on dry skin" it would be more powerful to use a metaphor there. Like "the sound of nails on brittle paper" or something--the reader already knows you're talking about skin, so you have the opportunity to inject some more description in there without confusing things.

    Nice work with this!

    Hey! I'm Doug, former Young Writers Project Web/Instruction Coordinator. Currently using my writing skills as a digital marketer! Feel free to ask me questions about YWP, writing, or how to use writing to find a fun career!
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  1. Fire83
    Jan 15, 2020

    thank you so much for your feedback, I am really happy that you liked it. I also put in a metaphor where you recommended and I think that it sounds a lot better. THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

    “We realize the importance of our voices only when we are silenced.” Malala Yousafzai

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