Lost at sea as
the sun goes down
and day puts
on its night-time gown,
and time and
tide keep on their round
of ebb and
flow,
of come and go
of the embryo
that daily
dies at dusk.
Lost at sea as
dream-time waits
in the wings
that dark creates
with its
false, enticing, baits
of other ways
on other days
when, bearing
rays
of light, the
sun beguiles again.
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