More? Poem by Sailing to windward

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Anchored, long-line ashore.
Tucked up for the night,
not a soul in sight.
Hills fade to silhouette,
gulls cry and pirouette.
Who could ask for more?

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Saturday, June 25, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: solitude
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Sailing to windward

Sailing to windward

52° 27' N / 9° 41' E
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