A seawall for a catwalk
and the gulls in turn
show off their feathers.
Time out from the parade:
two mannequins mount guard
against maraudung swallows.
No victor, no escape.
Two rutting stags:
Footprints left in wet cement
end at the cliff edge.
Small things - a cracked wing mirror -
and we leave the world behind
more fractured than we found it.
Sliding towards the ferry, | A sculptor's genius?
the Autumn sea's | No, only the sea
grey avalanche. | can ripple stone like that.
From above the cliffs
a tranquil sea
threatened by a casement gun.
The old moon swells with pride | Upended ice cream cone,
nearing the skyline | a castle in the sand
which brightens at her touch. | creating its own moat.
The moon petals the sea. Rose petals the sea. Stone sea. Stone petals. Rose petals of stone. Stone rising before me. Sea moves. How moves...
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Sunday, 21 September 2008
Haiku thoughts from Guernsey
Recollected in tranquility: most of the following originated on the day I forgot to take my camera. I was about to bin them, but then thought: "No, not yet... wait and see".