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Galveston, Last Summer

Early Sunday morning,
we sat on the seawall

watching a laughing gull
eat a fish. There wasn’t

much happening, just the
gulf falling and rising

with the sea’s slow breathing
between hurricanes,

porpoises jumping over
waves, pelicans floating

above the shore and that
gull working on his fish

while glancing upward at
a sky filled with thieves.

Published inBirdsPoemsPoetry

5 Comments

  1. I know I’ve mentioned it before, but I am always struck by them imagery that your poetry evokes. I can also feel the pulse of the water and everything in it.

  2. Derrick Derrick

    Rich in images, James, and I love the line: “the sea’s slow breathing
    between hurricanes”!

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