Host

Grey silhouette of screeching gull

soars startled into flight;

First glitter on a foreign shore,

Behold the coming night.

Old fisherman alone, cocooned,

baring weathered flesh;

Rests his line on steady frame,

Sits picking at his net.

The distant hills grow dim, then dark,

Lie silently to rest;

Their form against the setting sun

a man’s recumbent b...

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