Blue, gray, green, sliver--
the apparition of an island
while the water scallops the sand into
intersecting circles of wet shimmer
And the tide pulls back, pulls back. pulls back.
It's a weird way to have a conversation. But go ahead. Then I'll find your blog (if you have one) and comment about something there. We probably won't be talking about the same thing--but I've had conversations like that, haven't you?
Wonderful poem
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