Broad sun-stoned beaches.
White heat.
A green river.
A bridge,
scorched yellow palms
from the summer-sleeping house
drowsing through August.
Days I have held,
days I have lost,
days that outgrow, like daughters,
my harbouring arms.
(Derek Walcott)
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Based on Topics: Daughters PoemsBased on Keywords: drowsing, harbouring, outgrow