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Identity and Impermanence

As the longship came ashore
to the tundran pine strewn floor
droplets sprung from rested oar.

Gliding silently it came;
at sunset with sails aflame.
Neither home it had, nor name.

Though the world had heard its tone;
creaking mast and hawser moan
to itself it was unknown.




Bunden vers av Orm den gamle VIP
Läst 144 gånger och applåderad av 1 personer
Publicerad 2020-09-23 23:04



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