Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Linda M. Crate- A Poem

oil spill
you treat me like an oil spill,
you squeeze your eyes shut
pretending to see the problem
yet ignoring it in the hopes that
I will drift away, yet like oil I
paint your life in inky black and
I will not float away like a piece
of driftwood bobbing in the sea;
you will clean up the messes
you’ve made, you will change 
the way you’ve treated oceans or
I shall leave you in the cold and
lonely beams of moon silver.

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