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Hurricane Ridge
08 NOV 1992
Outward,
on the horizon lies an island,
pointed on bottom's end
by a queen-named city,
which marks the beginning of a country's bloodline
A trip there reveals a flowery welcome,
and new developments across the way.
It is distinct by atmosphere only.
Here, up high,
in a range that steals the air's moisture
in the forms of snow and rain
from the rightward land,
can be heard a soft, cool breeze in the ears;
just enough to rustle one's hair.
The August sun shines,
but spots of snow can be seen in all amounts,
and a blanket of white far off
covers the furthest point of the well-known island,
surrounded by blue salt
and touched upon by white ferries;
one seen now, coming to this land's port.
This, a ridge in Olympic,
fashions itself with bustling deer many
and is the point from which a border is seen,
crossed by many, here,
over fresh, bright blue salt;
trees seen 'round here, and there too,
differences known as few,
and a mutual calmness evident,
disturbed only by the rustling waves
that travel to and fro with warm smiles,
and at times, ravaging bursts;
however, only heard by those of us
here and there that listen and are close by.
AJG
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