Last night the seawind was to me
A metaphor of liberty,
And every wave along the beach
A starlit music seemed to be.
To-day the seawind is to me
A fettered soul that would be free,
And dumbly striving after speech
The tides yearn landward painfully.
To-morrow how shall sound for me
The changing voice of wind and sea?
What tidings shall be borne of each?
What rumour of what mystery?
William Watson's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Changed Voices by William Watson )
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- The prodigal brother, Mark Heathcote
- Happy birthday late Mum, Adewale Ajakanri
- Dark Room, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Then you go inside yourself., RIC S. BASTASA
- There's No Escaping Family, A.J. Kent
- the mother sparrow, RIC S. BASTASA
- fed up of hiding the sadness and anger, xenalee haynes
- The Milennium Park, Tony Adah
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