I did not see the whales.
The other beachgoers
shouting, gesturing gaping.
Shielding, squinting, straining:
only a steady line between blues,
the surf pounding the day away.
Beachly stuff resumes:
The surf pounding,
Me still squinting,
The unchanging line.
I fear, know,
There’s so little time.
Todays poetry contest submission was written by Charles Nevi.
Do you think it could possibly be one of the best new poems of 2013?