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Full Moon Risen


Above the spume of wind
touched waves at South Beach,
Stood there as a moon flew
with golden glow that filled the night sky,

Sculpted sand sifted beneath my feet
where my tread carved more,
Scudding clouds threatened to obscure,
but failed their hiding task,

The moonlight glistened
from the edge of the ocean down to my feet,
I dodged seaweed strewn on the shore,
and edged to the verge of wet,
And wondered at the wonder;

not alone I turned to call others to my side,
But they wore shoes not made for shedding
and clothes not made for rolling,
Strange it is to miss the splendor
for dry feet and unsalted ankles.


Steve Pedlow



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