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Jan 24, 1992

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Keaton Beach, FL

Birds are perching on the rail,
Waiting for their dinner pail.
Fish are nibbling near the pier,
Unaware that gulls are near.
Herons and anhingas wait.
They can fish without a bait.
Waves are kissing gentle beach,
Cleansing all within their reach.
Sun is muted by the breeze,
Shaking up the live oak trees.
Keaton Beach is at its best,
Calling all it sees to rest.
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