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The Voyager's Song

The Voyager's Song

 

I see the shoreline,

black and unremarked

sleeping in secret, supine,

an open door, strong

as a broad Yorkshire

voice,

weak as rags of sea mist.

 

Soon I shall fetch upon its sands,

where cold silence reigns

uninvited like the early dawn.

 

Beside me shall burn,

in isolation and awe,

the last bright flower

of an ancient memory...

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aweisolationmemoryorchidsshorelinesilencesojournsongsupineuninvitedYorkshire

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