What follows upon the land,
Of wonderous amazement,
Its sallow shores of beach and craft
And sunkissed blobs of bleached flesh scant?
The silent logs of dried sogwood alay in salts, For gulls to perch and preach their throatless song of woe,
Of glacier melts and slicks in tow.
Eternal seascape warnings glide
Just over wave then up to sky
Where proudfeathered Icarus once
dared the distant orb of heat condascend
To bleed
faint scan of success upon the melting brow of man, While ecstatic wax of mind falls glueless
Into crashy laughing sea,
crystalline blue of truth’s epitome.

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