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Patiki By Robert James Berry A comma of sand out in Patiki Bay beyond the mudbanks, rust brown bush the broken bottles and glamorous wash-ups low tide gifts us, the creek nudging its blunt head into the gulf where a wader exercises his supreme disdain for the other life making a ragged earning out of this mud. The sea has engineered flat rocks to shore up the point; the washed stones sing where I sit and interpret the gulf's ineffably blue dialogues, with the tide sweeping in. © Copyright 2004, Robert James Berry, All Rights Reserved |
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Document last modified on: 01/06/2007