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Poetry Magnum Opus

The Shore


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The Shore


On a long walk just inside the tide’s reach, on salt-damp sand that gives and

holds prints of toes and heels, with scattered shells constantly resettled by the

ceaseless sea, I soak in the solitude of early morning moods and quiet stirrings,

absorbing as much air and light as I can hold, then trudge the way back along

a higher stretch, to find new thoughts that temper the strain on body parts long

unused, my return almost unbearable but a necessary part of going onward.

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OMG! Are you drunk?

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Oh, forgot to thank you, Tink. Glad this bit meant something.

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  • 1 month later...
David W. Parsley

I'm with Tinker. This poem brings me to the place and circumstance, evokes the narrator's mood. Nothing to suggest, it stands well as is, for me.


- Dave

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  • 2 weeks later...

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