My friend and I escaped for the weekend to write. We woke, ate and drove to the sun to set pen to paper. Our writing warm up, “sea air & bird poop”, became…a poem?
The dock sways. I close my eyes. The salty air surrounds my body. Slightly cool it breaks the heat of the morning sun.
Coos and Cackles. Hums from unseen pigeons. Remnants of their presence on the dock by my feet. Like paint across rusty nails and deeply grooved wood.
Water sparkling all around. No camera in hand, I take a snapshot in my mind. Heaven
Sometimes it’s fun to try something new…
