Daily poetry for inspiration, emotion, and thought.
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Shore Grass
by Amy Lowell
The moon is cold over the sand-dunes,
And the clumps of sea-grasses flow and glitter;
The thin chime of my watch tells the quarter after midnight;
And still I hear nothing
But the windy beating of the sea.
(1919)
Posted on 23 April '09 by James, under Poems. No Comments.
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