Moring in a Seaside Town.
Jun 26, 2022
Early morning in a seaside town.
The sound of waves,
As they crash into the tall white Cliffs of North
Sculpting them, ever so slightly,
Slowly but surely.
Men in motor boats with their sardine baits
Leaving before the ball of fire wakes up.
The daily hustle begins
A day of slow movement,
Of stasis.
The sea breeze crashing into the windows
Making rustling, tumbling sounds.
Cats lay lazing on the roofs, purring once in a while.
The pale blue sky imposes itself,
Everything in a spontaneous tranquility.
Where nothing happens, but
A lot does
— Fiello
