Friday, February 5, 2010

Walking the Seawall.

Walking The Seawall

The horizon shines with a faint glint
of dawn.

Chilly winter wind
wrinkles the gray water.

A rhythmic shush matches
the advance of foamy parallel curls.

Marching bands of gulls
 play in one-note, reed tone symphony.

Strange pink blocks of granite
hold firm to the base of the seawall.

Moist salty air seeps into every crevice,
condensing, drips from cool surfaces.

New construction on battered buildings
marks the passing of hurricane season.
More light colors this mural.
I turn to play the scene in reverse.

Dennis Price


  1. Nice poem. Galveston... love it.

  2. I like this very much. I assume it's the Gulf. Good writing.

  3. Yes Steve, it is the Gulf of Mexico. Thanks Vickie. Pappy

  4. That was very well done! Your words well placed words made the coast of Texas around Galveston sound better than it is. Thanks for sharing. ;)


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