Early, very early
Dreams still elusive, uploading awareness
The beach, yet to unfold its white sheet to the heat of the Cyclops sun
Watching, silent small men raking hairy husks that stain the sand
Piling high the beach-bleached coconuts
Fashioned in a Pol Pot pyramid of eyeless skulls
Smouldering, a tropical fragrance of spiralling sweet blue smoke
Enticing sand flies that crackle in the crematorium's triangle of death
© Harry Mills
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