Eleventh Saturday

Tin sky, brass river.

Two dark planes in far distance.

Coming, and going.

Gadwalls at seawall

Nibbling moss. Low tide, later,

Will bring barnacles.

Quick merganser dives.

Gull swoops. Duck pops up. No catch.

Gull squawks, flies away.

And my Haiku e-book, if you want more.

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