Gulls Cry

Reality is looking for a job.
The money won’t last.
This idyll won’t last.

The northeast breeze rolls the waves onto the beach.
Where the sun reflects from the water, I cannot look.

Gulls cry.
What fresh heaven is this?

6 thoughts on “Gulls Cry”

  1. the surface of the water is a four-dimensional emulation of the structure of spacetime. i enjoy thinking about that as i watch the lake.

    the color of the water shifts constantly within a range of blues and greens and whites and golds. one moment i will look, then i will read a page in a book, then i will look at the lake again and it will have changed.

  2. It made me happy, reading this.
    You took a risk, moving your life. Already, rewards.
    Many more will follow.
    Congratulations to you and yours, for having the courage to live.

  3. thank you, harry. a wise man once told me to find the thing that frightened me and do it.

  4. Thank you, Donna. I’m always worried about something (a man’s gotta have a hobby).

    This morning I took my shoes and socks off and walked for the first time into the wavelets lapping the beachlet (it’s a short beach — you can see it on Google Maps, it’s Rogers Beach Park in Chicago).

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