North of Gualala

Small bird.  Small bird on the glass
wet sand.  I am come to tell you.
A thousand years of dust is not a long time. 
Or a hundred days of rain. 

Clouds, white and hugging the blue
horizon. Just blue
and white. 

Just blue and white.

Not a ship.  Not another


Easy now.  Easy now. 


Hear it:




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