Poetry · Uncategorized · Writing

Point No Point

Drift logs shift
As we hop
From one to the
Next and the next again

Stones and sand
Crunch beneath our feet
As we walk
Down the beach

Rocks and shells
Fill your pockets
As you search
For the perfect
Place to arrange them

Art for a time
Here today until the tide
Wipes the slate
Cleaning it for
The next display

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