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I lie like flotsam on the shore. 


The shallow green waves make patterns on the beach,

blisters and dark space. A backwash of brown glass. 


Quicksilver fish kiss like lost pieces of memory. 


I watch the bandages unwinding, stained yellow,

stiff with the hours of loose skin and razor sand.


Blue shadows chill in the gold dusk light.


I gather brown paper and worn shoes, 

and walk into a storm of backlit mosquitos.

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About the author:

Dannielle Phelan

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Dannielle lives an uncomfortable distance from Perth WA and spends more time than she would like commuting. Happily, this gives her time to embellish ordinary days with strange and often unwanted detail. Frequently, she inflicts her stories on coworkers. They suggested she write.

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