This poem was written after a day exploring Omaha Beach, one of the D-Day invasion beaches of Normandy.

Aurora

Before the dawn the north wind rails

at electric curtains of purple, acid green;

soft and terrible sails

that drape the stars,

flare bright as crystaline arctic nights.

Shall I walk far through silver beech

to reach hibernating huntsmen? Snow-shoed,

can I f...

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