Echoes

You should have heard the gulls last night.

They cooed and hawed in the fog over a rising tide.

Wind rippling echos in the mist.

Mist from what is certainly not considered fog anymore, but cloud.

Every once in a while one glides overhead, chattering, on some mission perhaps known only to nature.

Author: Buddhadoshā

Buddhadoshā loves you.

2 thoughts on “Echoes”

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