Almost every day, he said, my
glass seemed more than half full,
but a fly would dance on top. When
we came into home, winging away
from sunset, I saw one cloud-like
nuclear explosion. My trip's
symbolic, beautiful resolution.
57/100
A friend from the blogosphere is publishing 100 poems in 100 days. I’ve decided to at least try to do that, and I’m going to try to catch up with her by publishing multiple poems per day for a week or so. While in Scotland just about 30 days ago, riding along in a tour bus, I marveled at the ubiquitous sheep and the beautiful landscape out the window.
In Southern Scotland
Sheep dot grassy fields,
Their sides shagging wool.
Clouds scud through skies,
Like inverted sheep, woolly
sides down. Dark ones
Sprinkle naturally holy water:
Priests of nature, they
Remind all—sheep, cows,
Tourists in buses—of our
Divine brotherhood.
On March 2nd, the dawn struck the city first…
…and slowly made its way across the Matanzas River toward us…
Traffic into the city (and drivers) snarled every time the drawbridge rose…
Florida shorebirds used the shifting shadows to hide their predation…
Some worked the waters together…amicably or not…
After a “look to the East” one craves liquid refreshments. St. Augustine obliged. Meanwhile, the day drew to a close…
The same boats illumined at dawn changed in the reddening skies…
Night descended. The Bridge of Lions looked similar to the previous night, but not the same…
Lights from The Bridge of Lions danced across the water as we headed to bed. Goodnight, St. Aug. Thanks for the day…
all the voices in my head 