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As far as the heart can reach,
a blue expanse
white-capped with frivolity;

the sand a touch of golden sun
beneath bare feet.

The same wooden beach chair
where  two had snuggled comfortably –
more than ample space for one

and a lifetime of recall.
The wind remembers old songs.

Waves roll in,
a metronome
keeping perfect time.

The guitar plays softly
in this dream.

A painting or a reverie?
She smiles
through the mist.

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