Thirty-sixth Saturday

Sky cloudless but pale.

Seagulls float like bathtub toys

On empty river.

Various ripples —

Woven wire, stipples, silk —

Lift, fall over swell.

Single red tugboat

Rushing south, churns white water

In front and behind.

And there’s a book of my haiku if you want more.

Categories: Journal /

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SJ Rozan