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As Morning greets me on the Bay
A whistle cries and lines are drawn
a seagull and the boats are out
Now hollow footsteps on the dock
a running boy and then a shout
A steamy morning mist lies down
to hover on the distant sand
One liquid desert moves about
one motionless upon the land
I crack the wooden window up
Invite the morning in for tea
A million freezing sparks of life
yet room for lingering night to flee
And then in stillness as in wait
the Coast anticipates the day
for on the sea approaching Greece
Sun rises, speeds again to save
And on the shore in fading laps
goodbyes to seaweed for the day
A weakened tide leaves salty tracks
as morning greets me on the bay
© Copyright 2007 Coal (UN: martincoal at Writing.Com).
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