as the moon
floats across
a sea of stars
glowing
fraught with rainbows
until it’s not clear
where the stars end
and the ship begins
up high in the crow’s nest
comes the cry “land ho”
it isn’t land, of course
no crude stone or crumbling sand
line the edge of
this sea
instead where the shore would be
shadows are forming
welcome
peaceful
heralding the instant
before dawn
when all dreaming must end
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