Titanic
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National Poetry Month 14 – Nearer My God to Thee
Imagine that sloping deck getting several degrees closer to perpendicular. The small band lingers on the deck the boys are playing ragtime light, airy tunes to keep the crowd calm. Those black tuxedos don’t keep them warm clouds of breath encircle well-coiffed heads. Steam pours from the tops of the funnels brass horns blow in…
