Cursive on my beach

Of all words to be written in this sand,

These stand at shore, waiting for the

passing of waves in passion.

As shadows pass along; in awe passengers

Communicate in commentary.

Gazing on broken sea shells or dreams

Open bottles recovered from foreign


Star gazers speak of words

And live out actions vicariously.

Cursive at even tide, but even ink won’t

Break waves at sunset.

Although tonight minds have peace

Tonight, a celebration in the sand.


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