An old weathered
section of snow fencing
half buried in the
lee of the dune
gray skin gnarled by
wind and water;
Saw grass and beach
plum blossoms
intertwined with the
rusted wire
holding the old slats
of the fence.
Flip flops and
sandals
lined up along the path
leading to the
Atlantic;
Warm white sand
drifted
mirroring the swells
and troughs
undulating offshore,
under La Luna’s spell.
----
edited April 14, 2015
Dunes – v2
Dunes
Martha’s Vineyard, ca 1995
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See all 37,080+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com
Poetry Where You Live.
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