Short poems: Cuplets

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Sunday, February 6, 2011

Cuplets

SEASCAPE Blind beneath my down turned hat, parrotts call colour to the mind`s eye. In the silence of suspended waves, blowing casuarinas conjure up the fall. Along the beach the likeness of a stranded whale is sculpted by the probing tide; Gravity and shifting sands fell other trees. Sign in to see full entry.

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