| A poem about grief. |


Viking Warrior YouthMy words are a Viking Warrior Youth All energy and impulse Broad steel strokesViking Warrior Youth
Cutting imperfect lines
In the air He will sail soon
On a journey
Of Discovery Of Love Of Pain Of Bounty Soon the nations will see The sails of my Viking Youth Unfurled


The NetOur lives are twined Irriversally A sailor's knotThe Net
Over Under In Out Complicated But this world is fastened tight With these ropes and
These hands Spread them wide
Open hands and arms and hearts Rake against the sea bottom Catching what we may Filling our nets Filling our homes Filling our hearts With the salty Bounty
--
e quindi uscimmo a reveder le stelle
- thence we emerged to see again the stars
--
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!!!
xo!
--
an antique arms and armor expert
--
Hey --- that's MY box of crayons!!
*Writers-Club
-RR
--
'Cause when it's in your hands, it's a cigarette.
--
An Irishman has an abiding sense of tragedy that sustains him through temporary bouts of joy.
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