Galveston Seawall

Walking The Seawall


The horizon shines with a faint glint
of dawn.

Chilly winter wind
wrinkles the gray water.

A rhythmic shush matches
the advance of foamy parallel curls.

Marching bands of gulls
play in one-note, reed tone symphony.

Strange pink blocks of granite
hold firm to the base of the seawall.

Moist salty air seeps into every crevice,
condensing, drips from cool surfaces.

New construction on battered buildings
marks the passing of hurricane season.

More light colors this mural.
I turn to play the scene in reverse.

Dennis Price

'I could have been a Rhodes Scholar, except for my grades.' - Duffy Daugherty/Michigan State

Galveston Seawall

Walking The Seawall


The horizon shines with a faint glint
that says dawn.

Chilly February wind
wrinkles the gray water.

A rhythmic shush matches
the advance of foamy parallel curls.

A marching band of gulls
plays its one-note woodwind symphony.

Strange pink blocks of granite
hold firm at the base of the seawall.

Moist salty air seeps into every crevice,
and drips off every surface.

New construction on old buildings
marks the passing of another hurricane season.

More light brings color to this mural.
I turn and play the scene in reverse.