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by
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S E L
Poems
Feb 2014
on the coast
ebb
it hides there, beneath the wisp of cloud
clouds all broken into pieces, forlorn and sad like a homeless ocean
the ebb so far out, feet flat on the sea bed
it is magic, sense the ocean drift
bursting
how it teases, rocks aplenty of squiggly things
life bursting into tiny streams
jagged edges do little to carp fear on
it cannot help with wish dreams of the hapless
to push back the waves so far; I can quickly run across
find the route to where heartbeats wait to clip onto energies
there's a light rain falling in gentle tacks
feet on warm paved promenade; subtle electric magnet under soles
discard
*
socks discarded; knife edge to display shell fish harvest
the moon on the coast wills its eyes in shy want
it must come to pass
and it will -- all in good time
after all, what is passion -- but ebb, burst, discard?*
(not in that order, necessarily)
Written by
S E L
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Paul Anthony Hutchinson
,
---
,
---
,
I Neptune
and
Isabella Pullivan
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