On the beach the children come and go

Blurring of geography

Awash upon the heaving sea

it dawns the child, aware now of longitude and latitude, adrift yes, adrift, thoughts becalmed, yes, but safe


– He’s dead in the water, said Henry

– I found her quite peculiar in a bohemian kind of way, said Judy

marooned in a bulbous bottle, corked

first of many cracks

combinations of double-bowline-knot, treble-crown-knot, back-handed-well-knot, knot-in-and-out-knot, and jamming-knot

His wandering mind created labyrinths where there were no labyrinths.

A headwind


Smoke and mirrors.

We are involved in a Praxitelean Murder Mystery.

As the marble falls, each particle no matter how big or small will reveal a story

But those pieces that were discarded, if only we could get our hands on those discarded pieces that were tossed onto the rubbish heap, to examine them, what they would reveal, just reveal

On the beach the children come and go talking of Cicero  

Joan Kevinour

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