haikai

Sea Shore Encounters: a #writephoto #haibun

sea-mist

 

The waves slap the shore again and again. White foam crests burst into sprays of saline moisture. The sporadic cry of passing terns adds a staccato harmony to the rumbling surf’s deep bass.

 

I sat here more than sixteen years ago–at night. The last light of the moon passed behind the gathering rainclouds from the west. The same rhythmic melody of surf on turn. No terns at night, of course, so no harmony.

 

Now, I lose myself in the movement of wind and water. The years between visits flash before me: the wild-eyed uncertainties of a college student on exchange, the early struggles in the real world, marriage, our son’s birth, and our raising him to young manhood. It all happened so fast!

 

Another crash. Another splash of mist. Another wave withdraws. All that’s left is the smooth, wet sand left behind.

 

hot zenith

the sea breeze

dries my tears

 

 

 

for Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo prompt wave #writephoto

UPDATE: for Poets United Poetry Pantry #409

 

 

 

 

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16 replies »

  1. It’s good to have a place that acts as a focal point about which you measure time. In your case, from a young man to a husband and dad. I love the description of terns bringing harmony during the day, but not at night. Overall, a beautiful write.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. You brought a tear to my eye this morning with your beautiful, sorrowful haibun, Frank. I love the way it starts with sensory images, which transport me to the shore, and the shift from image to memory and back to the present again. The haiku is a gem.

    Liked by 1 person

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