Saturday walking in the park
All eyes down on their phones
Across the water, an anhinga
I’m rather fond of this. It jettisons 17 syllables to go straight to the heart of haiku.
The anhinga, if you don’t know it, is a unique and marvelous bird. A fisher without water proof feathers, it perches periodically on a branch and spreads its wings in the sun to dry. In this posture it overrules the bald eagle.
Mark Folse is a provincial diarist and aspiring minor poet from New Orleans. His past blogging adventures included the Katina/Federal Flood blog wetbankguide on blogspot.com which David Simon told NY Magazine was one of three blogs that helped inform Treme, and Toulouse Street–Odd Bits of Life in New Orleans, which once outranked the Doobie Brothers on Google Search. His work has appeared in The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature, The New Delta Review, Metazen, New Laurel Review, Ellipsis, What We Know: New Orleans as Home, Please Forward, The Maple Leaf Rag IV, and A Howling in the Wires (which he co-edited).
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Well Bottom Blues 
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