No more sea-sick

At Sunset ,you cross the bar,
With evening star and being

Put out to the sea’s vastness,
You turn no longer sea-sick.

Cricket creaks sunset of hill.
A pilot smiles from vastness.

Raise a  bar sufficiently high
To pass but make no speech.

( a self-elegy on the lines of Tennyson’s poem Crossing the bar)

 

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