Sometimes we seem to feel the day turn against us.
It turns against us and pulls and twists and chafes
and within it we feel all aground, scraped, listless
ocean gone, waves gone, left only the
pale grey dusk and the
cold bland sand as it
sinks beneath our
wet cold shoes as we
stand peering out to the
waters that moved us as we
gaze with surprise at our
grounding as we
have not the strength for imagining more than
is in our hands, at our feet, in the wind.
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