One of my neighbours enjoys a hearty breakfast.
One of the crawfish I see regularly in the rain gutters has learned the error of congregating in the open. Though I'm not sure it's his fault, I still suspect a human is breeding them there to sell. Looks like the herons take a cut.
It's autumn and so it's harvest time. I find myself really excited to see the rice fields--I've never lived somewhere where the harvest was so visible.
Twitter Sonnet #1402
The spectre chomping bricks was just a guest.
The phantom sipping slime was just a geist.
The banshee screaming psalms was just at rest.
The haunter lurking late had pulled a heist.
The fishy screen would wink at ev'ry five.
Betwixt the sky and floor we ate a lamp.
For distant dirt the houses grew a hive.
For ocean banks the desert comes the damp.
Distracted eyes were rolling 'round the bowl.
Another dress was worn beyond the beach.
Entire trees were used to fill the hole.
Umbrella combs were just beyond our reach.
A hearty breakfast ends within the beak.
The looping rain returns within the week.