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  • Royce Breslawski
    • Sep 15
    • 1 min read

Woodlawn

By: Royce Breslawski


Undone beneath velvet twilight

Swallowed in eerie zephyrs

Among the coarse, the soaked,

The bleached, the broken

Curdled into a ball on the beach

With all the other washed up things

You haven’t left. You haven’t even arrived

You are in between

Waiting for a dune trekker

Or sea glass collector

To find you fossilized


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