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A Sandy Sunset Serenade


A sandy sunset serenade, strumming a submarine seagull, seated on a stump.




My father grew up on the lake, and wanted a seagull guitar for as long as he could remember. He finally bought one. It came with a past—it lived for years on a submarine and was a central source of entertainment for the crew. You might say it's a bit worn down. My father would say it's got character. He returned to the Great Lake, Seagull in hand. Sitting down on a stump, he breathed the cool summer air, and sang of things fitting for such an instrument. It reminds me that I'd rather be worn and wise, with a story of grace, than to convince the world I've got it put together.


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