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Virginia J. Poli

Tomorrow's Hope

I am sure you can smell the salt air
And watch the moon's kissing rays
Touch one small piece of these cresting waves.
From the sea, the gentle push of the breeze
Whispers softly searching for the beckoning sand.

A drifting mystery swirls
And clings to the guarding, grassy dunes.
Carrying all the misty dreams of tomorrow,
Hopes cling to every veiling drop
And lift to greet the arriving sun.