an endless horizon
of cold blue,
a plume
of a
distant
moon, the arm of it
on
the bay,
between the harbor lights.
the boats are in
at last.
the beach is clear of
children and tourists,
of lovers
hand in hand,
only the elderly are out,
sleepless,
gouging the sand
with bare feet,
walking, seeking refuge,
a meaning
to their life.
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