In sun with furry kisses
And crazy love
Smoking stares
Rattle your guts
As if the surf is about
To invade
I wouldn't want to be
Sitting on *that* deck
Just above highwater
Oyster catchers shout
Out warnings
The seal oblivious to her
Solitude
Lolls in the shuffling swell
Watching each sandy move
Eyes so deep
History blinks
(Bawley Point,31 August 2014)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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