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.
