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.
James Brush is a teacher and writer who lives in Austin, TX. He tries to get outside as much as possible.
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.
Thanks, Heather, it’s nice to hear that. I loved your acrostic haibun, btw.
Rich in images, James, and I love the line: “the sea’s slow breathing
between hurricanes”!
Thanks, Derrick. It’s hard to be in Galveston anymore without thinking about Hurricane Ike.
I could hear the waves breathing, and the entirety of the poem was wonderful.