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Click hereBeyond the palms the beach:
white sand, a broken boat,
rubbish, a lonely hawker,
the breakers rolling in –
no sails to break the horizon,
just grey, rain-swept water
stretching far away.
Past the surf the sea
goes cold. The monsoon
seems spent; a gap of false,
almost synthetic light
breaks through the clouds.
Too bright reflections,
cast my way across
the pounding water, make
me blink and turn about.
I can "see" everything you've described in as vivid a fashion as the speaker sees it! Good work!
the aftermath and withdrawal is dangerous still, TK U MLJ LV NV