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Emptiness costs a bit extra:
In distant horizons there is peace.
Given two windows on a whitewashed world,
How could one not long for the sea?
The soul wings it out to the horizon,
Yet stays contented in a well-ordered room.
Sing to the gauze-covered shallows,
Inlets and coves and the open sea!
Xylophones tingle on porches unseen.
All poems: copyright by
Nicholas Gordon
Free scrapbook poems
permission to use
provided by the author. |
