meditation
On powd'ry grains of sandAt genial island's narrow end,
Morning gently breaks:
I cast stones at crested waves;
Cheeks still moist in briny breeze.
Poetry by arquious

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 Editors' choice
 Editors' choiceWritten on 2015-01-28 at 03:38
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 Print text|   | 
		Editorial Team  | 
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		Phyllis J. Rhodes | 

 
 