Dec 2018
These cool shells in pocket, grit of sand sifting to the bottom
the sweeping of wind and shining of beach grass
glow of this morning's sun, a sort of leftoverΒ Β lingering of moon
the whole morning with petals of sea salted fragrance
in the air and swirling round the hills and dunes
I sit sipping tea, in scenes deeply steeped
a deep peace and nothing else.
CA Guilfoyle
Written by
CA Guilfoyle  F/Portland, OR -Tucson, AZ
(F/Portland, OR -Tucson, AZ)   
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