Across this tremendous expanse of
White-powder sand
What bitten logs have collected
And odd rubber-thongs
A water-damaged book jacket —
Detritus people and time
Have left behind
When it is cold nobody comes
But I happen to
Wandering down the open, inviting path
Hoping my footprints will trace out
A pattern that could make the
Neatened paper-coat fly back
Like fluttering wings to clothe the naked book
Clogs sail to rejoin their halves and
Logs leap upright into the ground
Where trees again stand
I so much love the imagery and portraiture of your words, and thoughts. Really, really beautiful.
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Thanks, Bill, I always appreciate your feedback. 🙂
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My pleasure!
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🙂
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Your words always take me on a journey. I see it. I walk it. I feel it
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Yay!
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Just wonderful. I felt like I was walking on the beach with You….we go in the winter now and again to a very empty beach…it was exactly like that….and then You took this crazy beautiful turn in the end….like watching You spin off dancing down the sand. Magic. Thank You!!! 🤗
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You’re the best, Katy. ❤
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Sweet Lady! 🐬😃☀️
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