where are the dashed boats mister sailorlyre


O these 'tale[s] of ship and port and harbour

'has the night heard its dock?

'does day design day?




aroun d the rusting

hulls

the mother the s e a

hurls


its

l o v i n g


w a v e s



_______________________________________


---------

One working
from

scale to

smaller

as a

shrinking
becoming

entering
the lips

of

sea


&



harbour




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