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
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Tanka
trees and more trees brush against my window feeling like a bird seeing what it sees when out on a limb Red Lights
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