From my chair

A hovering gull
precariously hangs on the ocean breeze –
long legs wade in the shallows
as a heron spears a meal –
rippled sunlight dances gracefully
across the receding tide –
a well-used boat tugs its mooring
yearning for open waters and salty spray –
the lulling song of ebbing waves
gently laps moss-covered rocks –
the smell of this cove
clears the head and brings unusual clarity –
the crisp white strakes on an Adirondack
chair worn smooth by reflective souls –
the shadow of a broad umbrella
tracks the time of a setting day –
a strange bird call echoes from
deep within a copse of trees –
from my chair,
the world exists all in this moment.

EW Hinton 9/20/2005

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Poetry and writings