Haibun - Returning
Returning
My father was a fisherman. Before dawn,
he surfcast off the coast of Montauk from
a favourite boulder he liked to stand on.
Ten years after his death, I return during
a storm and come upon the boulder awash
in waves. For some reason, I expected it
to have gone with him.
dusk in winter --
a roiling sea
churns the sand
My father was a fisherman. Before dawn,
he surfcast off the coast of Montauk from
a favourite boulder he liked to stand on.
Ten years after his death, I return during
a storm and come upon the boulder awash
in waves. For some reason, I expected it
to have gone with him.
dusk in winter --
a roiling sea
churns the sand
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