Friday, 27 November 2015

In the tide  line, the driftwood lays on the golden sand . Empty mussel shells lay half broken on the shimmering sand . The long line of fading footprints sinking in hot sand lay in the sun . The waves are are huge sinking into the sparkling hot sand . small birds flutter though the howling wind it is a midsummers day 


for slowly walking though the sinking cold water or lying on the boiling hot sand relaxing  the whole day away.

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