The water is a deep, smooth indigo dappled with light. The firs hugging our porch catch the morning sun in their top most branches and throw us into shadow. There is a gentle, kissing lap of soft waves against the seawall, birds chitter off in the distance, the air seems almost heavy with the dark, earthy, balmy scent of fir.
Suddenly, the roar of a motor boat slicing through the water with startling swiftness splits open the dream, chasing an errant merganser caught fishing in too deep water.
This is my attempt at the prose paragraph described in chapter three... it was not an actual assignment, but I tried it for fun:) I guess it can count as the three-four sentence prose poem as well (since it has the right amount of sentences)
ReplyDeleteThanks for the helpful comments, Dave... as you can see I used your suggestions:)
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