Lime Tree Avenue

We both stood then,
storm-sheltered, unlashed,
under bent lime trees.

But then whipped,
and wind-weltered;
A roar of timber-roll seas.

Breaking
green waves
almost crash:

A canopied
high-tide surged,
And a final,

blustered thrash:
this winded-walk,
washed and purged.


 

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