The starched white sheets billowed in the wind.
It was like being on a galleon
a hundred miles, a thousand years from shore,
hauling the line at my mother's command, and setting
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a course for home
The starched white sheets billowed in the wind.
It was like being on a galleon
a hundred miles, a thousand years from shore,
hauling the line at my mother's command, and setting
a course for home