The shoreline is a paper

waiting for a story. Frequent

coal blue skies compete with the

gray of midday.  Oil cloth jackets

provide temporary warmth.  Multiple

nearby voices scale up the dunes,

but the power of the waves refuse

them any higher.  Birds scatter and

then rejoin, swiftly passing overhead.

The winds are held together by

stitches of breezes, plaited thick

like a nautical rope, sewn on the

edges.  A gray-white cloudy mist

shrouds distant wandering figures.

They walk where they have been

before.  Over and again.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s