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Only memories tread:

Bourbons on the lighthouse terrace.

She wore a morning’s glory

stretched aside the shore line,

set beneath the sunrise.

Spent Winters off the coast

hung-over with new energy

clutching at peace gone,

washed amid the sand

we danced around the bon,

circling the flames,

pressured at the core

recalling our purposes

calling out for more.

“She was a diamond

set to a timeless

life band

a constant”

Dom S. Flagg 2016

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