from wetted sands
the winds tickle the barren plain
as those adrift scratch
their heads
atop their landlocked sea-legs
for oceans have pulled their
rugs from under
the feet of those landlocked sea-legs
and drifting pauses in puzzlement
while rotting time drapes
across stones
a silent sand quickly losing
the luster of its marine wonders
bakes in the ethereal expanse
of evaporating horizons
the call of lapping waves
sings no more for the dance
of those landlocked sea-legs
and stranded in salty sand
those once adrift
shed their tears
in hope the ocean will return
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