The magnificent moonrise last night.
the day's earnings....
Went for a puddle-hopping walk today and found an odd mailbox, nailed to a wall with a large sign saying "NOT a U.S. post box. Free poem, help yourself." (sorry, no photo; evidently I'm going to need one of those nifty scuba cameras for my winter wanderings.) So, today's poetry is a gift from Guy Holliday a Capitol Hill writer.
Kowloon Entry
Bristling white, the towers rise to starboard
hard against the backdrop of the green hills.
The sky's morning grey is gone and black
and white and green and blue turn to.
Bright footings soft along the shore
cut through the heavy air, the dew unset.
The bow comes round and more revealed
the discipline gives way--
the buildings surge and preen and there
to port the pleasure point we lay to.
Men with mooring lines prepare to
make us fast.
We join and hold the breath of time
of tales untold.
Oh, my gosh, that is so exquisitely cool. Free poems! I think there ought to be serendipitous finds like that every single day.
ReplyDelete(Of course, that would limit the whole concept of serendipity, but whatev.)
The "surge and preen" is a lovely pair of words, isn't it? I have no idea what he's talking about (oh, except boating and things), but they ring beautifully.
Well, that is the slant of this blog--the little daily delights. And yes, it would be cool to have more poetry around the neighborhood; I didn't even pay attention to where this was; it was pouring rain. I find it painted on random bus stops--think it must be a classroom project because it also has scenic painting. I need to go back to the bus terminal and take more photos of the poetry in the wall.
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