Wet plein air oil shelters

late afternoon light against
the breakers spilling alone

in the distance near clambeds.
White spray dances billowing.

Time of day to exercise
a soul-search with inner eyes.

I shield the silver glare. Hands
reach to feed the gulls hungry

for fish from my slim larder.
We rest. Glad to be lazy.

We celebrate the naked
pleasure of our common nosh

unaware of quivering.

Beneath the layers, my skin
simmers while the graying sky

veils the lone winter willow
calm on canvas in the wind.

by Marcel Aime Duclos

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