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A poem about a brief moment of contentment before a storm. |
| And we will watch the ocean moon Whisper to the sand And gently pull the waves From sea to sky to land And we will taste the salty breeze Linger in the air And begin to paint the rain That's gone before it's there And as the ocean swings between us Exposing two white hands The wind will lick our lips As the ocean makes demands And we will smell the briny perfume Sharpening the sky A black and bitter beauty That's young enough to die And we will hear the summer storm And a sound will reach the ear Of a frantic fiddle fighting For the moment's end is near |