Wednesday, March 6, 2013


Black sky hides extremes,
Mourns its losses in the dark;
Dead stars scar its dreams.

Water laps my feet,
Foam floating like night's spent arc;
Eager to retreat.

Rising sun exhales
The day's verandah of blue;
Behind vapour's trails.

Gulls begin the din
Before machines break straight through
To spoil morning's spin.

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