Bloated
The carcass jiggles with each wave
Lumberous
Blubber exposed
Crisping in the sun
Drying in the wind
Bloating with the water
The earth
The wind
The waves
Caressing it
Creating change
One would think it alive in some ways
If it’s scent were not a beacon for talons and teeth
One would question if life could actually exist.
As it slowly becomes one with the sand.
Little Wren 