A-SHORE

The stones of time
speak every time
tho’ their voices ebb
as laughter and tide
rise:
bells that now chime
someday will be taken by rust
then dust:
dead shells were once
clinging barnacles.

The stones of time
sing all the time
their voices are echoed
by the whispers of palms:
we stand where once
was the seas lips
where she stooped to woo
but she’s since moved
on
to seek the sun.

Stones of time
in the sandpiper’s kitchen!

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