Two Poems

 1.

sitting by the
bay drenched in
brackish spray with
the sound of waves
enslaved within the
pulsating caves; like
these anxious waters
fraught with fury and
froth, the soul too yearns 
to move on and keep on
moving for there is no shore 
upon which it can rest anymore

2.

sullen red smoke of
the sun by the eastern
rim swirls within the
gray pall of hovering
clouds. impatient rays
escape from little chinks
and cracks hunting for
nourishment in the
unfolding innocence
of a new day. who? who?
who? the wise owl wonders
nodding off to sleep. does
it dream? do you?






Comments

Lia said…
Makes me contemplate different holidays, far away places, beaches, blowholes from Indonesia to the Pacific Islands to Australia. How interesting...
August 10, 2023 at 9:28 AM
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