Fortieth Saturday

Two small boats race by,

Churn white wakes in gray water.

Now, just rain again.

Long low swells roll in,

Silver, green, raindrop-dotted,

Mingle restlessly.

Against pale blank sky

Tower like paper cut-out.

Red light blinks from top.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Time limit is exhausted. Please reload the CAPTCHA.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.