On ancient Carolina dunes
below sailing clouds,
ever-refreshed foams
of long-gone seas—
we wade morning calm
that used to be glistening lagoons,
straining still to mime
brightness of the sky,
aquamarine blue
where sand below the pines
may never cease to yield
that rustling shine that saved
in grainy seeds unnumbered suns
with eons, measured just so
with one's feet.
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