The heron-priested shore

It was my thirtieth year to heaven

Woke to my hearing from harbour and neighbour wood

And the mussel pooled and the heron-priested shore

The morning beckon

With water praying and call of seagull and rook

And the knock of sailing boats on the net-webbed wall

Myself to set foot

That second

In the still sleeping town and set forth.

 

The first verse of  “it was my thirtieth year to heaven” by Dylan Thomas.

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