Beachcomber

In the black California sands
You walk patrol
Searching for scraps,
Searching for food,
Leaving web-prints.
The sun never burns your white face red.
Staring out to sea,
Your black bead eyes look tired.
Need some sun shades?

Published by Elece

I am a photographer and a freelance writer. I write stories, poetry, gift books, and magazine articles––both print and online. Photographing children, places, and especially flowers is my hobby.

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