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
This is one of the things I enjoy about poetry. It can be like a picture ("a picture is worth a thousand words") in that it condenses scenes to their essence. Hope that you're still staying warm and cozy down there in chilly Texas.
ReplyDeletenice, I felt it in my bones, but, where's the coffee smell I expected?
ReplyDeleteThanks Vee. Well Judi, the coffee came at the end of the walk in the lobby of the hotel. Next revision will have to include that portion too.
ReplyDeleteAha! the coffee would add the final sensory experience of taste?
ReplyDelete