laughing in the
arbour
with parrots and
shadows
a sunburnt sea breeze
and sculptures
casting white grit
like hand-reel sinkers scattering
mist rises from the
teapot beach
and winter smoke
hugs each valley
our motel's flowerbeds
are crimson trifle
so we sleep well
tonight
to roar home in the
morning
I want teapot beach and crimson trifle :)
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