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June 21
224/365

Whidbey

Walking off the ferry
a sense of calm envelops
me. My racing thoughts
slow their gallop, are replaced
by cries of wheeling gulls
and the smell of seaweed.
Sweeping lines of broken shells
along the beach mark yesterday’s
high tide. A Great Blue Heron
sits and waits. I’m home.

Whidbey

Walking off the ferry
a sense of calm envelops
me. My racing thoughts
slow their gallop, are replaced
by cries of wheeling gulls
and the smell of seaweed.
Sweeping lines of broken shells
along the beach mark yesterday’s
high tide. A Great Blue Heron
sits and waits. I’m home.

Cathy Ross, 72

Seattle

 
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