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Fading Land

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In times of turmoil and angst I reach for the familiarity of prose and the comfort of

 

memory.

 

 

Prose; as sea mist, dissolves in the firsts rays of sun, never there, ephemeral, lost

 

lover at best.

 

 

I slide, so subtle its start lost to me. I give my mind to serendipity and splutter grasping

 

memory.

 

 

 

 

I gaze, lost in unconscious reverie and fly my life, through cliff edge chills, over coconut

 

gorse and on.

 

 

On through spray and tumultuous wave, crashing boulders and distant cries darken

 

tragic life.

 

 

Spent, lightheaded from spiral decline I cling as a drowning man to the steady hand of

 

fading land.

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Uploaded on June 17, 2010
Taken on January 28, 2010