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A Year of Poetry – Day 120

Two women on the lone wet strand
   (The wind’s out with a will to roam)
The waves wage war on rocks and sand,
   (And a ship is long due home.)
The sea sprays in the women’s eyes—
   (Hearts can writhe like the sea’s wild foam)
Lower descend the tempestuous skies,
   (For the wind’s out with a will to roam.)
“O daughter, thine eyes be better than mine,”
   (The waves ascend high as yonder dome)
“North or south is there never a sign?”
   (And a ship is long due home.)
They watched there all the long night through—
   (The wind’s out with a will to roam)
Wind and rain and sorrow for two—
   (And heaven on the long reach home.)
— William Stanley Braithwaite, The Watchers


  1. John in Philly

     /  August 21, 2016

    I read and reread this poem.
    I know that no matter what brave front my family put up in their letters, they missed me as terribly as I missed them.
    No words in the sailor’s language are more important than homeward bound.
    Now I have to go deal with an unexpected spike in the pollen level.


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