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Rory
Poems
Aug 2018
Loch Broom
On the bay, the fog fell like ash.
I watched the summer isles disappear into memory,
heard the oyster catcher cry
somewhere out of sight.
Reclining on a bench,
emerald with moss and lichen,
I too was forgotten.
#nature
Written by
Rory
23/M/Scotland
(23/M/Scotland)
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