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Sand Scribblings

THE WIND stops, the wind begins.
The wind says stop, begin.

A sea shovel scrapes the sand floor.
The shovel changes, the floor changes.

The sandpipers, maybe they know.
Maybe a three-pointed foot can tell.
Maybe the fog moon they fly to, guesses.
The sandpipers cheep 'Here' and get away.
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5/9/2021 4:36:11 AM # 1.0.0.577