Memory is the ocean, and sea monsters gnaw bones under its dark, comforting blanket.
The breakers scourge the shore, glotting it with washed up facts and half-remembered fictions, piled in strange, twisted minglings of seaweed and driftwood.
The gulls swoop raucously to snatch gullets of fish: casting their song like a net for rain.
On the horizon, a small tug chugs by, sending plumes of oily smoke to trail the sunset sky.
Added @ 12:06 PM to Diary category on April 19, 2001
The breakers scourge the shore, glotting it with washed up facts and half-remembered fictions, piled in strange, twisted minglings of seaweed and driftwood.
The gulls swoop raucously to snatch gullets of fish: casting their song like a net for rain.
On the horizon, a small tug chugs by, sending plumes of oily smoke to trail the sunset sky.
Added @ 12:06 PM to Diary category on April 19, 2001