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May 2019
Salt pulpit,
streeted sand,
brass and tar,
bell broken
by the new wave.
Evening splinter
stuck in riprap,
memory hurled
into sharp relief.
Pilings grow,
dead teeth
from rushing
gum of surf.
Night's tide
parks on
blue sand,
dies as foam.
Boardwalk
lights never
seem to waver.
Evan Stephens
Written by
Evan Stephens  44/M/DC
(44/M/DC)   
261
   Evan Stephens
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