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Created on: April 06, 2009
Seagulls shriek, mocking or celebrating?
The sun heats my black dress, and it burns my skin
My children should be here, thrilled by the waves chasing them through the sand
This is a day at the beach, after all
They're at home, though, eyes red
So as beach balls swirl by us in the breeze
We toss the ashes into the surf and stop
Crying long enough to smile
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