A scatter of jade,
a breath held,
a hundred, maybe more,
emerald humps rising from the still, blue plate.
Limestone bones,
gnarled and ancient,
ribs of the earth,
thrust skyward,
cloaked in stubborn green.
Each a secret,
a pocket of sand,
a whisper of wave,
a rustle of leaves,
a story etched in the rock.
Caves, dark mouths,
breathing the tide,
echoes of bats,
and the drip, drip, drip,
of time's slow carving.
Sunlight,...
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