Hugo Williams
Broadside
To be rendered speechless
By love’s broadside:
That is more or less
Everyday stuff. What
If those gusty words you
Jettison each day were not?
No questions phrased,
Or answers couched, only requests
And acquiescence gazed.
Then I would see you
As I might a mountain and
A fjord, a place of beauty to
Be seen and loved with old
Content, not as a sight
No adjective can hold,
With love which knocks me
Down without a fight.
Page(s) 29
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