Dusk, Deer Isle

Unknown bird call carried ‘cross the cove.
Long late Autumn afternoon light
Gilding the granite.
Lone fly’s  drone
Spiraling in sundown.
Theater in the shallows:
Waves wash a rock,
Every passing protested
In concentric cries till
Silenced by the risen tide.

Six billion people,
And I’m alone.

God bless Maine.

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