Sea Garden

The sea-garden is a perfect channel, with waves pulsating so near and dear. Let your tears rise right beside— a fresh beat, or will, roll steady in time. Let the cloud curl back on the strand; a spiral refresh, young like the sun. I am sometimes the first to leave, the silent stage of tints and shimmers, climbing up high for the thrum. Here in the golden water, I am reduced into salt and fire. Give grace to my heart neath the moonlight; blossom into dawn
in perfect tune.

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