Between the many sailing boats
The made up the regatta,
He heard the lapping of the waves,
An infinite sonata —

The sun was high and glittered wide
Across the water’s surface;
And expectation, stored for years,
Began to make its nervous

Way up, to where he manned a sail.
His hands bore new stigmata —
To be reborn out on the waves,
The life of a

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