![](http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5040/2688/320/scratch%20%2865%29w.jpg)
pale as sandpipers' prints
in a wrinkle of infinity
she flies at that easy hour
catches the potbellied moon
rides past a crescent of sand
seaweed laced
with driftwood beads
a blink of stars, a gentle smile
she slides out through the sky
on wings of sparrow sighs
Over the Next Hill, Watercolor by Sue
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