I am thinking of her sitting on a bleak beach,
a wintry day grey sky
and sighing waves
an inland sea.
She comes here summer and winter she says
sits on the sand
arms wrapped round her knees
looking now at the feet the sand her toes
wiggles one the left one giggles once.
I sat then in the harsh sun squinting reading,
oh reading 'Being and Nothingness'
true! it's true
or Alexandria Quartet
its true its true by Manly beach
I lay and squinting sweating read them
and hearing the waves not sighing crashing
Now she thinks of lavender and I of jacaranda.
So for her chin on knees
here now is Margaret Preston
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