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  • Surly waves clutching at her feet,
    but like a statue unaware
    she stares into the fog's mist.
    Shapes now visible, formless thoughts, nameless feelings,
    appear as gathering clouds.

    In this abstract painting
    her world becomes clear.
    Voices of the past call to her,
    appear to caress her heart,
    then disappear.
    The past gone, ...visions.

    Standing at the water's edge,
    her eyes rest upon the
    lone flight of a gull.
    Diving and swooping his wings
    beneath the fog.
    This unknown hero
    lifts the mist with each effort
    of its fluttering wings.
    The fog rising slowly
    on the wings of the gull.
    Swooping and diving
    and driving back the darkness.

    The sky clears, now, and
    the sun shines.
    Triumphant, the hero flies to her,
    - but she is not there.

    ________________
    Sometimes, timing is everything.
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