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Writer | Poet | Mediocre Chef | Health Enthusiast

Freeform Poetry About My Homeland

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Whether feeling the wind beneath your wings
or inhaling the salty air,
the coast and port leave no retort,
too mystical to compare.

The grass and trees extend
to a point of sudden stop,
where sand and stone make their home
and critters hide in rocks.

The shore is lined with black & whites
and minerals of all kinds,
rushing waves advance for days,
then settle in due time.

Follow the planks stretched outward,
allotted spots and dots,
gulls aloft leave forget-me-nots,
but we’d rather they did not.

Massive metal constructs
you’d think should sink and never swim,
float and skim on…

Adam Ray Cronk

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