"Deserted harbor stillness," noise seems
trite spare the seemingly infinite pumping
of an exit drain. '420's in a huddled group
pace around the anchored marks, jib and main sail in line.
3:30 is very different in November;
Sky fading, stamped like a Monet, while clouds remain scattered
like a Pollock.
Color seems a mainstay while deciduous trees and
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