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Two beach poems
1
Head burning heart hours to ragged rhymes each blue
hard time writing love
This feeling I can't hold in pours to you
But see it washing on the empty beach morning with
centuries of seaweed -
I wonder where the water took it
And why it comes in cold
2
Stumbling thoughts
Sadder than lame gulls
It's as if they've lost forever the taste of earth-free flight
and spend their summer hurling dry curses downwind
with blowing papers and sharp white sand and rancid kelp
Philip White
Summer 1971
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