•Stones for Robert• Those anvils of the river, Those teeth of the sea, That lay in the many meadowed Elbow-realm, on the pointed edges Of hawk-mountains Who's inner whale-homes Hold the swollen winds Of the wife of the mountain-jarl, Hold the strong storms Of the troll-women, Which carry me to the lords Of the star-hall They act as white horses On the path of seagulls, That navigate us through our windows Of the clear mind-wall They act as broad prow-moons That bring us closer, to the lost beacon Of the fishing-grounds ᚸ Go well and God's bless you Robert, I look forward to hearing the next stories you gather, Amen, Amen, Amen, and a little Woman 🙏
The greatest male self shame is displayed by attending a football game. I knew that before Bly explained it and I have no remorse for those fools that pay to go and follow similar sports that they cannot perform in.
