Wikipedia Poem, No. 912
Traantown
realizes
home to’gain three watchers
watch
it’s luck, old luck
fell
on them might they
see
those next few days, months, years dry down harbor way.
He
heard
the water-thrill then, so
sent
above—
to talk?
to explore
the exterior?
Terrible clarity, terrible, they
weren’t
like others round Traantown
rigging
sudden pagan kinship with patient harbor
runs
cross through the men of your world, one whitecap at a time.