Wednesday, 2 March 2016


The Bay of Fires.

The predawn light.
The cool breath of the darkening sky. 
The squeak of the finest sand and the glare of the brightest beaches. 
The stifling heat of the late afternoon sun. 
The whistle of the kettle in the early morning quiet.
The blackened soles of my feet. 
The constant wash of the swirling sea. 

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