The place where the
forest meets the sea
A canvas and brush
and me
With every stroke of
the brush
i can hear and smell
the sounds, don't have
to rush
There is no set time
for me to leave
the warmth of the sun
a slight breeze under
a tree
The sun is ready to set
sprinkles fall not to
mind getting wet
I walk to the water
dark by now, still as
warm as through the
day, swimming far
away.
As i start back in the
calm clear water
i will come another day
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