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Ethel Bowmaster Apr 2019
An island in a sea of liquid sky
Which spans between worlds
How deep does it go?
Is there anything below?
I cross the bridge spanning the sea
Ripples showing where the sea ends
And where the sky begins
A lighthouse grows as I near the other shore
Warning the skyboats of the shoals below
As the bridge fades away, miles upon miles
The sea of sky recedes, a memory, but nothing more

— The End —