The King Preens
Phil. Route 121. The Kick-Off. The Old Spot. The Drought.
An hour window free of much needed rain.
Massabesic’s waves smash the too-far-out brim like a quiet day for The Atlantic.
She wants her shore back. She wants her calm back.
The King preens then washes his beak. He’s an obsessive cleaner.
Better late than ugly.