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The Starfish
by Charles Dale Gray
November 25, 2001
An old man walked the beach one dawn
Amid the Seagulls’ cry
To search the shores of drying sand
For starfish left to die
And finding starfish here and there
He’d cast them to the sea
Then search again the sandy shore
Where e’re a star might be
I stopped to chat with him a bit
To see why all the fuss
He bade me stroll along with him
While starfish we discussed
I asked him, “What’s the purpose”
You’ll never get them all”
The beaches run for miles and miles
It matters not at all
Millions wash ashore each day
Marooned upon the sand
What difference can your efforts make
I fail to understand
Just then the old man lingered
Another star he’d found
And with a twinkle in his eye
He plucked it from the ground
And to the safety of the waves
The rescued star he threw
I watched it sink into the sea
To start its life anew
“My boy, it makes no difference
to people near or far.
It only makes a difference
to that little rescued star.
by Charles
Dale Gray
Copyright © 2001
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