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Ulick O Connor

Ulick O Connor

Ulick O Connor


Your eyes shone as if you'd seen
The first spring quiver into being,
That morning when I brushed your lips
To win you back from sleep's eclipse.
Had we slipped our moorings in a race
Beyond the edge to another place?
But the oars were set; you won't deny this
We touched lands fabled as Atlantis.

Titles by Ulick O Connor

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