Jostle-tailed breezes in a conversation of trees
stirs the flotsam cherry blossom, and poppies well ablaze,
to cinder down upon the paths, smouldering in
the delicious thought - which way today?
To the bay where the sea is calling out,
or in, or seething and teasing
the nostril's assaulted horizon.
So off we go, must not forgo
our daily swim, preordained,
and consummated, in full flow.
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