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Turn Of The Tide

by Peter Ray

Low ripples creep in eager waves,

Reclaiming grains of wind-blown sand,

To lay them flat within the damp, cemented matrix,

By degree, each one,

In exposed space,

Is over-run,

Again with water weight,

Where fine currents caress and roll,

The grains that had once been free.

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Sunday 22nd January 2017 9:22 pm

sea   sand   tide   waves

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