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Curlews

written by: Polly Oliver

@Polrocksnbones

 

"Stop talking," you said by the estuary's edge.

You kissed me and told me to close my eyes.

"Let the sun warm your face, feel my hand on your waist,
The marsh birds are calling the air alive."

And though I knew that forever could never be,
In that singing place, I touched eternity.

Polly Oliver

Polly Oliver

JAN/FEB 2017 AUTHOR OF THE MONTH at Spillwords.com
A mother of two boys, scribbling from the Western coasts of the UK, mainly poetry, but whatever comes out really. Former journalist and PR professional, the first whispers of middle age and declining eyesight made having a real go at 'real writing' a little more urgent. A Cornish native, I made my home in South West Wales so the sound of the sea sighs through my work every now and then. Lover of nature, yoga, boutique coffee shops and occasional (and very dreadful) surfer.
Polly Oliver

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