We figured we'd test the bungalows
They were a replacement after a major fire in our hills
We wouldn't miss the waning of the hard wood floor
Here there's a gentle ripple of the tides
The sound in relation to the fan is dreamy, mesmerizing
We think hallelujah
Nothing left but a maggoty shelf of burning ash
In which we fear
She describes the curve of the coast with her signature glossy syntax and verbiage
The east side faces the home of a distinguished war vet who tells tales of different seas
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