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At The Sea's Edge

By John I. Blair

All my years Iíve played
Along an inner shore.

A few pebbles, some scattered shells,
A distant headland.

Iíve thrown a stone into the deep
And watched the ripples spread.

Beachcombing in this lonely place,
I survey the dim horizon, full of fears,

and suspect that somethingís wrong,
But Iím glad Iíve stayed.

©2004 John I. Blair

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