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Betsy Holleman Burke
When the stain of dawn releases me from sleep
I seek the empty beach beyond the dunes.
Alone on flat, white sand, red colors the sky
Mirrors the water. A kaleidoscope of color expands.
Blue and green sea glass glistens, invites me into the shallows.
Gentle waves wash in, erase my dreams, slip out, tug me
Toward the horizon, a rhythm old as earth, as breath.
Salt air expands my lungs, fills my heart. I am a granule
Mica-flecked, a tiny part with sandpipers, periwinkles
I long to be a dolphin, flashing.
This poem was published in Front Porch Review
Photo Taken by Henry Brown
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