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- matt chia's -
poetry, prose + commentary
Sunday, June 18, 2006
On A Breakwater on a breakwater you can hear the ocean sigh sometimes louder, sometimes softer but always melancholy; you can see the sky - a pale grey blue stretching its cirrus fingers to an unknown horizon; the fresh salt tang plays with your hair, your clothes, it makes your eyes prickle (you knew it would); and you can see the waves cresting foam-white and blue so pale whispering gently to the shore with its moss and algae growing up the rocks, slowly, patiently their only respite the drowning coolness of seawater you can sit and watch a wisp of cloud, a scuttling crab, a ship, fading into nothingness I could sit and watch my life pass me by I would only need cathartic waves underneath a grey blue sky. |
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