summer late afternoonA Poem by annie leerengo - tankasthe fog's rolling in -- long wispy ragged fingers creeping up the shore -- the sailboats turn into ghosts on the blue bay -- clouds of fog piled like silver mounds of whipped cream on Del Monte hills -- bet it's pea soup in PG as the tourists snarf up sweatshirts in Carmel. © 2013 annie lee |
StatsAuthorannie leePrunedale, CAAboutI'm a tough old broad who spent almost 30 years at Ma Bell, and that is high level training for surviving in the jungle. Thank you for your patience. I am retired from the Unix and Linux world, but w.. more..Writing
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