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  • Writer's pictureRuby Nambo


I look at the deep waters

And heard the roaring seas.

Tides arrive to shore

Both high and low.

Waves crash like cymbals—

Filled with rhythm

Onto the grey boulders.

Sunshine was absent

But the wind was not.

Grey skies vanished daylight

Into darkness all around.

I light up a candle

But the gust blew my flame.

I heard small taps:

Drip drop

Drip drop

Coming from the sky.

I noticed a humid scent,

From the Evergreen trees

And the call from soaring seagulls—

Its only a small reminder

Of the coast of the Pacific Northwest.

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