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May 2016
It died anyway
caught out in the
heat
and this day was
not for worms.

We rocked it on the surf line
swam for a short time
lazed to the slow beat of
the transistor
raised a glass and drank
to pass
what remained of the fun.

When the shadows stopped dancing
on the grains of hot sand
we all gave a hand to clean up
got up
moved on and
each in his or her own castle
battled the evening ahead.

Russet red skin and sweet was the sin
if it was
so
then it was.

We moved quietly together under the
eiderdown of stars that brokered
softness and light

and
kissed goodnight
John Edward Smallshaw
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw  68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)   
291
   Keith Wilson
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