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Granite Grey

A crash of thunderous
Booming
And white spray.
The blood is grey this day,
Of foreboding yellowish
Swirls.
Crash again and
White rivulets pour
Down like waterfalls.
Above cypress cling to
Jeffers' oriental rock,
Enshrouding the mass
In shadowy green.
The blood is grey this day
As of the mighty granite
That westward points.