Thank you, Anni. Maybe I'm a masochist because I do like making things difficult for myself. I considered rhyming each line as well, but that was a bridge too far. Perhaps next time...
In a place called Beira, in Mozambique,
where the Indian Ocean laps at the edge of Africa,
the sands hold a great, red, rusted hulk,
huge upon the beach where tourists play.
Who knows the night when this bold trader
was cast upon the shore by some wild storm?
It was forty years ago that her rusty bones
stood monumental on the sand. Long gone now.
Line count: 8
Free verse
For Express It In Eight, 09.16.23
Prompt: As per illustration.
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