The Island (George Woodcock Poems)
The oars fell from our hands. We climbed the darkSlopes of kelp to the stairway up the rock.Scott went first, ...
The oars fell from our hands. We climbed the darkSlopes of kelp to the stairway up the rock.Scott went first, ...
White is the evening nature of my thoughtWhen neutral time that drains the night of greenFlows through the dusk in ...
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