Voyage
for Ernest Hemingway
HEAP we these coppered hulls
With headed poppies
And garlic longed-for by the eager dead
Keep we with sun-caught sails
The westward ocean
Raise we that island on the sea at last
Steep to the gull-less shore
Across the sea rush
Trade we our cargoes with the dead for sleep.
poem by Archibald MacLeish
Added by Poetry Lover
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