driftwood, nature, photography

A Marvelous Old Tree

Driftwood

“Across the narrow beach we flit,
One little sand-piper and I;
And fast I gather, bit by bit,
The scattered drift-wood, bleached and dry.
The wild waves reach their hands for it,
The wild wind raves, the tide runs high,
As up and down the beach we flit,
One little sand-piper and I.”
Celia Thaxter

Teresa

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