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  • R.T.


Updated: Mar 13

To think of genealogy,

I thank you for the salt-spray bays

that course my veins,

The propitious calm of aged

wisdom to gather for me the years,

and think beyond what I could dream,

I thank you for the ocean's singing,

for the chowder, for the clam-mud boots,

for the clam-bit skin on my arms;

for the peace of a past,

and for the lazy times of youth

That now I can draw to soothe.