The eagle looked down admiring her reflection in the mud-stained sea
– a pseudo-haiku
It's not easy, with the rain and wind: The boat's propeller was tangled by badly aimed fishing line. I thought we would hit rocks. "Use the small motor!" he was yelling. We went east, rocking, slow.
the sea opens out beyond the point, and it thrusts its wide swells at you, devouring time with glintings that jump off the rumples scarring the edges and white-capped tips of the round surging waves.
sand and rocks here, there on the ground and in my shoes rocks and sand teach, wait
the bird battles dawn with its vociferous squawks but the sun will win
no words can stop it that slow succession of days demarcating time
The morning was clear at five AM, but now, a low-lying fog came. The rough trees' branches reach down, tasting air, nonchalant. Two fat ravens perch, on the dock's rail. The mist clears, shifting things.
The air is thick like damaged feelings - the morning's seen better mornings - like the water was angry at the unhappy trees, but at last gave up, yielding to those persistent rooster crows.
– a nonnet.
northbound stairs dawn sun sacrificial soul
wide wings
righthand turning brilliant daylight reflective meditations
cupric sea
downward view peremptory cloud empty thoughts
still trees
the gaze
encompasses
the world but
fails
to understand
anything
at all
slumped posture plain wall cluttered mind
simple window