ghost boat

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ghost boat before seaford head
morning sea fog, whispering of baffle and blurr, doubt and nothingness
earlier the world suffused with a warm, washed out apricot glow, now faded to a wraith like clamminess
mist, pearl moistening every spiders web
a realm fungal furred, rot and cankour, yet gorse flowers still tweet strident yellow, coconut ponged
most branches are bare, crenullated with stone green lichen crisps, brittle as undersea coral
season for softening, of surrender to the earth, take us down gentle into this, our darkness

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ah do love a breakfast poetic blather!
on the way home, emerging from the murk, a fishing boat languishing just off mooring, ha, blasting out christmas tunes, hackneyed, but bobbing in the fog suprisingly jaunt joyful

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