| Author | Message | ||
| M
Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 4201 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention Winter Does Not Normally End ‘Til March Gary Blankenship Watch castles rise above the surf with sand dollar windows clam shell parapets, kelp banners and crab claw catapults to take it to the enemy, pirates and gunslingers all. Ken and Luke drag logs through geese huddled along the shore unsure where winter hides. Kate combs her tangled hair. Danny chases dogs that have lost their collars in kinnikinnick and cranberry bogs. Fishermen wade waist deep in surf, only black boots and line visible in the fog, gulls wait for a dead seal to make landfall. Waves pound the breakwater. A orange skiff crosses the bar tern and plover drift in its wake. Mommy sleeps in a folding chair, empty Schmidt bottles a dog-eared paperback, sandwich bags, children’s shoes and coats scattered around her like offerings to a toppled goddess. Dogs return to sniff bread crusts, log’s forgotten near high tide, Comb half-covered in sand. One red sneaker floats past boots, kelp, clam shells, oystercatchers chasing February--- |
