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Transit Zone by Martin Burke      < back : index : next >   

O o s t e n d e

birds I do not know the names of
there at harbour and shore-line,
birds – a multiplicity brightening the day,
their waddling ways
a rightness equalling the rightness of evening
in which these lines are written
for there sake, for mine,
for the little of beauty I know,
for the given beauty of boats with names
as inviting as Island and Faros
towards which they will soon be headed.



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