The salt spray seemed nicer in the spring; in the warm.
Now it chafes and freezes beneath a dark sky.
The wind buffets and blows hard against us all
as the waves are driven into the rocks below.
A shadow is cast o'er the whole of the world
muting the color, hardening hearts...
But briefly, so briefly the light breaks through
and the leaves dance like fire.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
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