Crooked Man

There was a crooked man
And he built a crooked house

         By the sheltered bay that sang
         Inside his dreams each night.

Each dawn he walked along
Stones worn smooth by surf

         Whispering its secrets
         To his underwater mind.

Drunk on sea breezes,
Blinded by the sun,

         He measured out the cliffs
         With footsteps in the tall grass.


©2016 Michael Fraley




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