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Oct 2012
Antennas sink,
anchors rise,
the sky is a Great White,
coming for a land capsized,
Wade towards the breakers,
For the house's lamps to glow,
The sky swims fast,
The arc flash moves slow,
Antennas now anchors--
The great white sky on patrol.
Keith J Collard
Written by
Keith J Collard  42/M/Dedham, MA
(42/M/Dedham, MA)   
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