may suppose he has been here. There is
evidence: this bay, this headland,
clouds' endless commentary
as if to say See what was done
one word, and so many millennia.
We must suppose it. Nothing
will free the hung jury of our reason,
like a child in a game
to ten, to a hundred, a thousand—
Ready or not, here I come! Silence
the shadow of a gull's wing on the water,
the slow breaking of the sea.
is the village at the
tip of the
© Godfrey Rust, firstname.lastname@example.org. See here for permissions.