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First streaks of sun are silking the sea with pink,
Sand captures every footprint and releases it
to the tide. Across the way I see another early riser
sipping coffee and gazing through infinity; the resident
dolphins are known for leading minds beyond time.
Sandpipers scribe the sand with tweets and tracks,
Some future generation will spend hours
deciphering the hieroglyphic patterns.
Most of their conclusions will be wrong.
Cattails wave and nod; delighted, it would seem,
for early morning company. From somewhere in their midst
a bullfrog tries his voice. It appears to suit him
for he repeats the call and first thing you know
a million tiny sounds emerge from the grasses.
A front row seat to their symphony
is bought with this early morning rising.
The tide comes in, washing caked-on sand from toes
but never from my heart.

 
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