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Poetry: A day at the beach

by M.R.

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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