Wash

She rumbles ashore

Her sea-tired fingers pick through the pebbles

And tumble them all

Each one turned with clackering objection

As she hush hushes

her brooding waters over every one.

White petticoat blooms

And foams as she folds time and time again

Back forth and breaking

Her wringing fingers tirelessly launder.

Sea washes her shore.


“Brief: 366/2020 project, prompt ‘Wash’

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