Sunday, July 7, 2013


Sea waves are green and wet, 
But up from where they die 
Rise others vaster yet,
And those are brown and dry.
They are the sea made land 
To come at the fisher town, 
And bury in solid sand
The men she could not drown.
She may know cove and cape, 
But she does not know mankind 
If by any change of shape
She hopes to cut off mind.

Men left her a ship to sink; 
They can leave her a hut as well,
 And be but more free to think 
For the one more cast-off shell.

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