Friday, April 12, 2013

Early Morning Beach Walk


Blue-gray sky seamed to blue-green ocean
Sand dolloped with foam
Purity of willets' wings.
Seaweed spells out a message in a language indecipherable--
words I think I once knew.
Blackest crow meets whitest dove
Shells cracked open, picked clean.
No sliver of beach glass
Only my own footprints--present meeting the past head on.
at

1 comment:

  1. ElizabethApril 12, 2013 at 8:44 PM

    You even write poetry beautifully -- is there nothing that you can't do?

    ReplyDelete

It's a weird way to have a conversation. But go ahead. Then I'll find your blog (if you have one) and comment about something there. We probably won't be talking about the same thing--but I've had conversations like that, haven't you?