night traffic
the smell of seaweed wafts
above the pier
Published by
martin gottlieb cohen
Martin Cohen was born in the South Bronx somewhere on Simpson Street, went to a Yeshiva on East Broadway and Canal Street, and then lived in the South of Brooklyn, the South of Long Island, The Southern Tier of Upstate New York, The South of Manhattan, and finally South Jersey in Egg Harbor.
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10 thoughts on “”
Ah, just “night traffic” is atmospheric enough, but “seaweed” and “pier” help deliver a triple whammy of sound, smell, and mood. ;-)
Specific yet universal. I see by your bio you’re a northeast coaster, but the poem immediate evoked vivid memories for me of the Pacific Coast Highway around Malibu.
Ah, just “night traffic” is atmospheric enough, but “seaweed” and “pier” help deliver a triple whammy of sound, smell, and mood. ;-)
I can smell it…
A really great work.
Specific yet universal. I see by your bio you’re a northeast coaster, but the poem immediate evoked vivid memories for me of the Pacific Coast Highway around Malibu.
mmmm…this is equally redolent here on the TX coast (Gulf of Mexico). Thnx!
Powerfully evocative. Congratulations.
Martin, I have read them all and each one twanged on the heart strings. Thank you so much. I smell it, I feel it.
Kat
salty air
through broken window–
fish on the bed
ebb tide complete
my opened eyes pronounce
death to barnacles
Nice one, Martin!
I like what Alan said…sights, sounds, smells…the full impact!
;)
Lary
indian summer…
resembling one another
these scarecrows