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December 2009, vol 5 no 4

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Ken Jones

 

The Fall

Through the haze the sun
a silver shilling
fallen on the shore

Five Mile Beach in a sepia spring. Vast and still and empty, an outstretched world of sand and sea and dunes. Lost in wonder hand in hand we walk the margin of our lives.

This lazy sea
drawn by an unseen moon
across the ribs of sand

A far off couple–time enough to weave them in the spell. Young lovers in this morning of the world? But here they come, looking through us ancient ghosts, unseeing they pass by.

He shouting in his cell phone
she frowning in the void

Let sea, sand and sky reclaim us, splashing through the shallows of our final years.

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