At sunset,
knee deep in the salt blur
and cut of the South Easter.
Edged out to sea by a West swell
and fiberglass chatter,
to cathedrals,
fish flecked with gold green
and feathered vaults of salt
that spill the smell of raspberries
across the sky.
Happy with the prospect of you,
so dry, so warm in our Friday evening
of take-aways and movies.
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