feast of broken heart
(no one noticed.)
there weren't any waves
when it crashed apon the shore,
the water's surface still as death.
the night sky lay still and cloudless,
naked of even the tiniest star,
and no breeze to stir the air.
it emerged from the water
lifeless and dead, it's color lost
to the ravages of a quiet storm
which threw it from the ocean depths.
beached like a miniature whale
it lay there, undiscovered
by human touch in death
as it had been when alive,
a waiting feast of broken heart
for vultures, both feathered and
those crafty few who learn
to walk, and to speak, and to
convincingly utter such false promises.
(and still, no one noticed.)
sashay.