Mid-Night Yuletide
written by: Emma Clohessy
Ankles washed by Christmas waters.
Thirsty sands drink slapping laps,
while on shore seaweed wanders.
Lungs fill with gulped gusts.
Incoming tides swing like flamenco skirts
folding over an Atlantic crest.
A full moon films in black and white,
Warren’s beach double foot print trail
yet by cliffs edge, fresh evidence reveals
no sunken heals! Just toes facing toes,
until a wave washes our festive secret.
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