#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Morning Shell

“I have hidden inside a sea shell

but forgotten in which…”

Excerpt from “The Sea Shell,” by MARIN SORESCU, TRANSLATED BY MICHAEL HAMBURGER

We woke way too early, and I did not get on a plane, as planned, and, at daylight walked out to the beach into a mild wind and warm air and the pelicans and terns and egrets having their breakfast in the sand.I felt a little sad but at peace with my decision not to travel to San Antonio. Tonight, Frank came out of his office late, I had saved him some dinner, and he said, “I’m glad you stayed,” and so was I. Where did the day go? I wanted to write but got caught up in phone calls and an online meeting that I thought was tomorrow and food shopping! I wanted to work on last night’s poem. I appreciate the positive feedback, but woke up thinking about it and feeling it’s good, it’s good enough. I can make it better. And it may only mean shifting a few lines. It’s Super Tuesday and I have already cast my vote and my daughter called to tell me she had cast her too. We voted for the same candidate. It was a glorious morning, and I was grateful I stayed put. The sea cucumber flapped open, waving on the sandy surface of the Bay. The snow egret opened wide her wings into a strut straight toward the waves. Three bearded young men sat by a small campfire they built at the edge of the water in between the lagoon and the Gulf on Beer Can Island. They had climbed out of the hammocks they slept in, and warmed themselves by the small campfire. Are they homeless, or camping? We greeted and did not disturb each other. The heron stood regally, a silhouette in morning sun by the bridge. Every morning, the birds strut and pose and give me good ideas for how to greet my new day.

Not Flying to AWP Morning Bird

Sea Cucumber, Longboat Pass Bridge