Oct 2011
I
a fly
on the beachsand
washes his face.
II
a southerly wind blows
scratching at
my towel.
III
from downlake:
the sounds of a hundred gulls
fornicating.
IV*
this little sandy spring:
hissing & *******
over black stones.
a fly
on the beachsand
washes his face.
II
a southerly wind blows
scratching at
my towel.
III
from downlake:
the sounds of a hundred gulls
fornicating.
IV*
this little sandy spring:
hissing & *******
over black stones.
more to come as i let the beach take me along.
