from my vantage point on spy top hill
I watched until the sun went down,
this is my punishment, marooned,
cast aside by society to live a lonely life,
there have been no ships today,
Yesterday there were no ships
tomorrow there could be, but
there might not be,
I have started to build a house
from the grains of sand on the beach
just in case I have to wait.
This could have been my diary
I could have been Crusoe.
© 2020, John Smallshaw.