And down I went,
down to the riverside,
white sails, black waves,
earthly brown rocks.
And in the salt water lay,
hoops of silver,
of all the love,
that washed away,
and didn't come back,
with the broken shells,
and sun-dried prawns.
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1 comment:
I was wondering where you were at.
Well, writing is still writing wherever it is.
I like this piece, kudos.
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