The false spring came
and left the old man
and his sea.

Greet the man with
a horn or a tusk.
Clothing is a must.

He is around me in
book and rhyme.

Trying Hemingwayesque
To be like him is best.
Look at her tresses
they blow to the ground.

Beyond the cove there
is my light.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s