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Sep 2016
Fog
Somewhere inside Earth's heavy exhalation of fog
a solitary seagull cackles on the cool tidal flat
I vanish into this otherworldly steam room,
an escape guided only by the crescendo
of surf's roar on my right
Soft sloping sand dunes sleep under the
clammy air awaiting wind's whisper
to undress them from seasons dampness
as sun plays hide and seek
This morning glory scented smoke
calms the soul seeking refuge,
and makes one to feel forever young

Written by Sara Fielder © Mar 2015
Sara Went Sailing
Written by
Sara Went Sailing  Bohemia
(Bohemia)   
331
   Andie
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