poetry & things

Summer’s drift

That time in summer’s red, the hilly sands I climbed

willow grass woven white with yarrow, fragrantly entwined

my eyes softened in sea drift’s tide, of puddled shallows

ocean sang in rising waves, wild sea kelp tangled

sun slept scarce hours, it’s shining seaward beams

that only leave as the final silhouette

vanishes into night’s dream

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