a mid-week sail
solitary in the bay
one buoy light blinking
squabbling seagulls
on an empty stretch of beach
the white sand
clattering footsteps
over cobblestone streeets
darkness comes early
end of season
brown leaves fill the doorways-
a shop bell jangles
the six o'clock ferry
huddled over hot coffee
waiting for sunrise
heading home
white caps against the bow-
mist turning to rain
Green's Magazine, Autumn 2003
Announcement: My new book, ANCIENT HISTORY, haibun and tanka prose , is available on cyberwit.com and Amazon
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Haibun
Odysse y An elusive floating. I reach out and clasp sunbeams. I move forward, searching for I know not what, yet, understanding...
No comments:
Post a Comment