Poetry by Nicholas Froumis
Shores of Desolation
The waves crash with endless persistence
against the eroding bedrock.
Violent stirrings at the whim of a lunar ventriloquist,
blowing full force
across the shores of desolation.
The white collar makes its gradual advance,
day by day,
until disappearing into the sunbaked sand.
built in haste,
storing ephemeral treasures,
wash away without the slightest memory.
blanket of darkness,
over the still, black waters.
Celestial bodies, given clouds’ pass,
onward towards the dawn.
The night hollers its hourly stops
like a bellowing conductor
alerting his slumbering voyagers.
Hopeful passage to renewal
is undermined through cracked lids
gazing at numbers as red
as sleep-deprived eyes
that close and open indecisively
in their struggle with consciousness
through the restless journey to sunset.
The morning light summons weary traveler
to the unexplored destination with full potential,
were it not for yesterday’s baggage
carried weightily through the night.
Nicholas Froumis practices optometry in the Bay Area. His writing has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and has appeared in Gravel, Right Hand Pointing, The Penwood Review, WestWard Quarterly, and Ground Fresh Thursday. He lives in San Jose, CA with his wife, novelist Stacy Froumis, and their daughter.