Shuffle

Let me shuffle them and
see beach people
In the rising waves of
this sunset hour.
My light falls on them,
on the pliant faces,
On their hair in a sea-
filtered sunlight,
Of the soft December
skies of deep hues.
On the beach they are just
things, fine objects.
Flooded in strange light,
they lose their faces.

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Shuffle

Let me shuffle and see beach people
In the rising waves of the sunset hour.
My light falls on them, on pliant faces,
On their hair in sea-filtered sunlight,
Of the soft December skies of deep hue.
On the beach are things, fine objects.
Flooded in strange light, they lose faces.