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Friday, March 07, 2014

Letters in the Sand

He began etching
flowing thoughts
on damp sand
far enough
with stick in hand
from foamy surf
the words withstand
sandpipers
dancing
atop
the strand
when finally
stylus thrust
into the froth
overhead
gulls cry aloud
as the sea
begins to shroud
now
thoughtless
wounds
no longer
proud.

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