Thinking of Your Absence (Down by the Harbour in Late October)

Across the water
green slips silent from low hills
intent on winter—
over here gulls come and go
with their rusty door hinge squeals

About John MacKenzie

I'll mumble for ya. Poetry, plus most things quantifiable: science, neuroscience, memory, epistemology, baseball. And so on.
This entry was posted in Art is lies, Autumn, Gulls, Harbour, John MacKenzie, Micropoetry, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Tanka, The Sea, Winter and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Mumble back at me

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