These waves are a figment of my imagination
Of our collective belief
Problems washed out to sea
Pulled away as we lounge on the shore
A collective fatigue
Roasting on the boardwalk
We try to collect it
Pay copper coins to taste it
They clang into an endless bucket
While our tongues shrivel
There’s no water here
No salve for our burns
These waves wash us out to sea

“Problems washed out to sea”
How wonderful it would be to have our problems eashed swsy by the sea! Thanks for joining in.
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Thank you
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You are welcome.
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I shared this with My Beloved Sandra, with whom I recently shared a week on the Maine Coast. Like me, she was deeply impressed — maybe even more than I, as I’m a far less-enthralled surf gazer than she.
Wonderful creation, Kelley. Thanks.
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Thank you, I’m glad you both enjoyed it.
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