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Sunday, October 28, 2012

Maritime Fog


Turn round thy denizen of mirrors
Cajoled over thy land and sea.
Marching Beacon…
Parade of light
Muffled with in folds of moisture
Engulfing as thy eternal comforter.
Quilted with punctured mistakes
Drawn by lights fading breaks.
Whose storm held each line
A butte’s twirling skirt
Skirmished the Earth’s shores.
Keys of splintered board
Lost to the tides
It’s treasured hoard.

Rip tide drown
 Thy dreams surfaced ‘round
Quicker than life’s
Breath
Give -ith

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