Poem in May
with apologires to Dylan Thomas
with apologires to Dylan Thomas
It was my seventy-eight year to heaven
Woke to my hearing from harbour and neighbour wood
And the mussel pooled and the heron
Priested shore
The morning beckon
With water praying and call of seagull and rook
And the knock of sailing boats on the webbed wall
Myself to set foot
That second
In the still sleeping town and set forth.
Looking forward to the best day ever.
Arta
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