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The mariner

Yesterday, a wild, west wind skimmed planks of deserted docks here on the island And gulls cried in pensive mood standing watchfully, in rows, out on rocks to the reaches. Today, it's silent in soft snow far down the blanketed beaches, the wave rolls off the long line of blueinto a vague horizon I believe, the hardest thing to do in cold, white winter is to be quiet with solitude And let everything speak to you!

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