Monday, September 05, 2016

September floats in quietly
While steamy days of summer
Evaporate from the placid river.
Forlorn foghorns warn, unseen;
Lonely trains wooo wooo their passing....
A gull screeches, calling; her, me, who?

The morning meditates, so do I.
Watching river fog rise and kiss the sky---
The rising sun blinks.


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