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May 2013
Ocean waves fall upon the sand as if its reaching out to touch each grain. The waves are blue and silver. The skies are grey and cold. When tides are high, the waves seem to slap the sea, each stride a little longer. Its no longer autumn anymore, the fields have turned to frost, the trees collecting snowflakes. The ocean continues to run, not once will it ever leave us.
Caela Elizabeth
Written by
Caela Elizabeth  Coast of Maine
(Coast of Maine)   
338
 
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