the sun peeks over the
horizon – watched many times
never grow tired of
Adapted from a passage in the book, The Racketeer by John Grisham (Doubleday: New York, 2012), where Mr. Grisham writes:
I sit on my terrace for the last time, sipping coffee and watching the ocean fade into pink, then orange as the sun peeks over the horizon.
I’ve watched this many times and never grow tired of it.
On a clear morning, the perfect sphere rises from the water and says hello, good morning, what another fine day it’s going to be.
I’m not sure where I’m headed or where I’ll end up, but I plan to be near a beach so I can begin each day with such quiet perfection.
People come and go so quickly here.
I grew up in West Michigan.
A location noted to be the 2nd most overcast bit of land with only the Seattle area having a higher percentage of gray sky.
I moved to the Atlantic Coast and often get to watch the ocean fade into pink, then orange as the sun peeks over the horizon.
I’ve watched this many times and never grow tired of it.
On a clear morning, the perfect sphere rises from the water and says hello, good morning, what another fine day it’s going to be.
I’m not sure where I’m headed or where I’ll end up, but I plan to be near a beach so I can begin each day with such quiet perfection.
No Haiku For You 