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Digging at the Beach MAG
She’s behind me,
deeply focused
her front paws fly
through the sand
her tail curls up high
as she pulls the sand
with her orange paws,
her black back curved
and the gray tip on her tail
high in the air
one can barely see her face
I’m in front of her
digging as well
like a dog
My hood is up,
my hair tumbling out
I’m wearing gray pants
with a pocket near the top
My hands are feeding her the sand
like a conveyor belt
In the background next to me,
my younger sister’s there,
but one can only see her hands
in a dark blue sweater,
digging too, and her blue jeans
Copycat
It was cold
a gray sky is behind me
the sand is cold,
but that doesn’t stop us.
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