the morning star has long since gone the sun is high in the sky shadowless a figure stands stranded on venus sands up in the blue and circling the seabirds watch and wait for movement of a certain kind down on their dinner plate where children played a flower lays pulled and torn up by its roots and where it stood the empty space just screams down on the flats baby turtles race for safety of the big deep and white caps come crashing in indifferent to tender flesh shriek of attack then moving in a raucous clash a gourmet din of cruel gull beaks and tearing skin screaming lit by the evening star at venus sands against a blood orange sky there s a shadow of a figure prone abandoned and all alone venus sands