Ghost boat.
And the pelicans on the jetty are still as statues.
Terns circle and cry but never commit to plunge for a fish.
Maybe there are no fish.
A single sea lions leaves the lazy dock life, undulating straight and fast for the harbor's mouth and
passes a couple perched on the rocks.
They are silent. Turned toward one another, heads hung low. For them the water, the birds, the boat, the sea lion do not exist.
2 comments:
Ah, darling. Every day I read here and think, "Why don't I go to the beach?"
Maybe I should start thinking more seriously about this move to Apalachicola.
hey there. how wonderful to look out at the sea.
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