Tide of the Times

Frank William Finney

Tonight we sift sand
on a palm-lined beach,
watching stars sparkle
over the sea. 

But dawn in the dungeon
breeds gloom in the dark,
and Greed fills its gut
on the road to oblivion. 

What if the starfish
blow up by the bonfires?
What if our towels
can’t staunch all the blood?

Back in their boardrooms
they’re testing the times.
Checking the test tubes;
the water for slaughter. 

What tides will roll
when the gulls drown in silence?
What will it matter
when no one will know?

---

Frank William Finney
Frank William Finney is a poet Massachusetts. His collections Wormwood Punch and Preludes to Lethe are in the works.