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Tybee

by J. C. Reilly

Sunset red as a scar puckers the early evening sky.

The seabirds glint like small comets and are gone.

 

            The seabirds glint like small comets.  Gone

            are the people under umbrellas, sprawled on towels.

 

People sheltering under umbrellas or sprawled on towels 

have left us behind, so the beach is finally ours.

 

            Even when the beach is full, it is always ours,

            two sisters with memories of a father’s abandonment.

 

Two sisters with memories of a father's abandonment

exult as a school of dolphins jumps the waves.

 

            A school of dolphins in great arcs jumps the waves,

     more elegantly than the two of us at high tide.

 

Something of rupture is more elegant than high tide.

Something of rupture puckers the heart’s evening sky.

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