Sardines, Fresh Sourdough, and German Beer

 

Near Gazebo Rocks

 

Shoreline

 

Asilomar.

Asilomar Yard-Art

 

Lone Abalone

 

Fragments / Figments

 

Draft-Drift

 Feeling my way into a new poem?

NOT AN OAR

BUT A RUDDER

That's how I heard it -- those lines --in my sleep last night.

Not sure where the poem will go.

It reminds me of the beginning of a poem from long ago:

Nights, I built fires

From the wood you did not chop.

We shall see which words shall drop.

--MD