Against the Odds
The waves rage against the sea shore before moving back once more
In their leave is left a lonely snail pushed onto the sand
Forced unto a place where it wishes not to be
What can it do but languor and stay on the sandy shore to die?
No! It burrows itself into the sand away from the raging waves
And once more slides on its way home
Do you see the salmon swim, the water shining on their glistening backs?
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