Beachwards we race – work’s done, day over, coffee made

and travel-mugs filled.  Today’s sky is clear, sunset’s

not over water; beach-dusk, though, is beautiful.

And tonight, we sit chatting nothing until, by

degrees, topics turn to honest thought, true feeling

and we discover our love once more.  We talk dark

into a chip-escapade, race home – this is life.

The true religion. ...

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