Impressions: Water’s Edge

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Sometimes
it froths and frills
its way up,
pale and foamy
catching the sun.
In retreat
sucking
the pebbles,
cracking, popping.

Sometimes
it banks its way up,
heaves and hurls itself
fastly furious.

Sometimes,
languorously
it curves and arcs
and bows itself out
and morphs
and cascades
and continues
le olam.
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