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Looking For The Water
It’s a great day
At the beach,
Sun shining,
Just a touch of a breeze,
But there’s no water,
They filled it in
In the early sixties
And paved it over
For a parking lot
And a strip mall,
I can hear the call
Of the ghosts
Of an ancient
Indian woman,
Of an early settler,
Calling, calling,
Looking for their children
Looking for the water.
Stephen Nesbitt ©
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