#crumbling-tower — Public Fediverse posts

Sand Castle

Damned be anything 
that rises up out of this sand,
where the sea licks and leaves its froth,
the waves like fingers in their ceaseless clawing,
betrayed by the white whisper of the surf,
that eternal purging to loosen 
the smallest grains in relentless toil,
until all the walls crumble and the tower sways,
then falls like a slithering serpent that slides
wounded and torn beneath the emerald sea.

October 26, 1988
Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica

Part of the continuing Respectful American series, a selection of writings from my travel journals from Central America in 1988

Sand Castle

Damned be anything 
that rises up out of this sand,
where the sea licks and leaves its froth,
the waves like fingers in their ceaseless clawing,
betrayed by the white whisper of the surf,
that eternal purging to loosen 
the smallest grains in relentless toil,
until all the walls crumble and the tower sways,
then falls like a slithering serpent that slides
wounded and torn beneath the emerald sea.

October 26, 1988
Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica

Part of the continuing Respectful American series, a selection of writings from my travel journals from Central America in 1988

Sand Castle

Damned be anything 
that rises up out of this sand,
where the sea licks and leaves its froth,
the waves like fingers in their ceaseless clawing,
betrayed by the white whisper of the surf,
that eternal purging to loosen 
the smallest grains in relentless toil,
until all the walls crumble and the tower sways,
then falls like a slithering serpent that slides
wounded and torn beneath the emerald sea.

October 26, 1988
Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica

Part of the continuing Respectful American series, a selection of writings from my travel journals from Central America in 1988

Sand Castle

Damned be anything 
that rises up out of this sand,
where the sea licks and leaves its froth,
the waves like fingers in their ceaseless clawing,
betrayed by the white whisper of the surf,
that eternal purging to loosen 
the smallest grains in relentless toil,
until all the walls crumble and the tower sways,
then falls like a slithering serpent that slides
wounded and torn beneath the emerald sea.

October 26, 1988
Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica

Part of the continuing Respectful American series, a selection of writings from my travel journals from Central America in 1988

Sand Castle

Damned be anything 
that rises up out of this sand,
where the sea licks and leaves its froth,
the waves like fingers in their ceaseless clawing,
betrayed by the white whisper of the surf,
that eternal purging to loosen 
the smallest grains in relentless toil,
until all the walls crumble and the tower sways,
then falls like a slithering serpent that slides
wounded and torn beneath the emerald sea.

October 26, 1988
Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica

Part of the continuing Respectful American series, a selection of writings from my travel journals from Central America in 1988