Slow ebb of life
            snow falling
ice melting
            all bound for the ocean
drift of cosmic debris
            chaff in the wind
our footprints erased
            from Margate sands

            that nothing held her
beyond a day’s pleasure
            the memory unscathed
the sediment of tiny
            shreds of existence
strewn across the beach
            the day to day
driven out to sea
            by the rush of time
Stars beneath which
            the wind moans
the howl of foxes
            filling empty dreams

John Lyons



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