Right now,
sitting by the Bay,
the
tide whispers my contentment.
Noodle hunts for smells in the grasses
and the succulents that
grow above the breakwater.
Stones, like Buddhas, piled up
to meet the oncoming tide.
I swear, one vertical stone
looks like Bodhidharma!
And here I am—
sun on my face,
the sea-salt wind coming
off the Bay,
indulging myself in a delicious
cup of coffee,
writing these words.
How did I end up
approaching 75 years
living in
this floating world?
—Bruce Linton
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