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steady siroccos


spread scattered showers across


eastern sand sponges




Edited by fdelano
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Thanks for this one Franklin. It reminds me of a visit to Gibralter when the wind suddenly turned and blew in from Africa, through the open air restaurant where my wife and I were eating. It was as if a giant industrial propane space-heater was suddenly turned our way. Dust was everywhere and although Gibralter is a spectacular place of much historical interest, when anyone mentions it, I think of desert dust and the Sirocco. Geoff

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Franklin, I, too, picture Geoff's experience. What place did you have in mind when you composed this?




I have been forced to visit most everywhere. As someone wise said, most poems picture greenery and water, but there are other places in the world. G., I'm sorry about the grit in your margarita. :icon_eek:

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