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The Tide

The tide rushes out to meet the clouds,

smudged in calm pastels across the horizon

with the freedom of a child’s hand.

The gurgling laughter of each peaking cap

rises to greet the salty breeze,

clear as the colours of water and air

that ebb with the morning light.

Playfully rolling, tumbling, singing;

this morning’s children, begging the sky

to carry them away.

Carry me away

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