Donald Traxler's Poetry
Friday, March 10, 2017
FORTY-FOUR FIFTY SOUTH
From the magnificent and
now-familiar southern
stars, I see that
our course is north-
northeast. Calm wind
and sea. As we run
in the Gulf of
Corcovado, the
night is peaceful
as a cat.
10 March 2016
(a memory from a year ago)
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