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LAUGHARNE, CARMARTHENSHIRE, WALES


High tide and the heron dived . . . . The Boat House at high water. photo from Wiki Commons by Dylan Moore.

The Lads of Laugharne

(for Dylan Thomas, upon the Centenary of his birth)

Laugharne, curious Laugharne

you remain alone – no

lines connect – where cocklers still

leave stone-damp flats at dawn

to dig for cockles in the silted sand

silt the late moon discloses

to tug the River Taf away—

away from heron-priested shore—

and dissolve in sky, sky so big

the clouds spill in upon the river

Laugharne, dreaming Laugharne

gulls glide down your distant green

trail shrill notes that pierce blue air

do you hear or do you dream

of limb-weary Welsh lads carousing your pubs

heavy days soot-spent

heaving coal from river barge

O Laugharne, do you still dream

of the poet in the Boat House

perched there on the cliff


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