No, You Can't Buy Me a Drink

“By the sea, beneath the yellow and sagging moon…” Walt Whitman

Walt Whitman Yellow Moon

A single girl stood contemplating her life while the ocean beneath her crashed at her feet.
The wind through her hair was like the myriad of thoughts wafting through her mind.
The smell of the salt air was calming; she had missed the smell of home.
The subtle chill of the night air was a harsh reminder of the unknown.
Would sunrise bring enlightenment or more moonlight alone?

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