“More to see! The child who eats the twisting treat; the gull who rides the unseen surf.”
Breeze breaks in laughter loosed; kuhllainkkinkcnk sothairyugoe! hahihihihihuh hyeh-uh?!
Clouds cling – fast.
Paddling swan in feathers.
The dog’s bark ricochets in waves that break ‘gainst seagull’s calling.
Day-drinker ponders; rises; leaves the poem.
The cranes cry to the cov’ring cloud.
Do you hear?
People-watching; people, watching me.
Over the water, w’thin the waves of crashing flame, I sit ‘n write.
With pub fire calling, its warmth tempting all in, Molly, through the rain she yet led.
In screeching seagull song sounds out senescent afternoon.
The road runs riv’ring currents, coursing crashless swirls of traffic.
King Will’yum walks, in wettened-sand.
A finely crafted lot of letters nailed into its door, the room, so full in retrospect, slept – spacious; silent.