Today
T Tom Billsborough
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I watch the sea breathe in its back-combed waves.
The stars recede, concede dawn's blossoming,
The moon-spectre's fading smile
Gradual as the onset of sorrow.
The ferry ploughing and the seagulls
Squawking as they stalk its whitening harrow,
And the light's pale ochre farrowing
The Clouds and its rays
Absorbing the mists of yesterday.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş