Corolla, On Shore
We held on to the sea as long as we could
Clutching each wave by the hand
We lingered on shore long under the moon:
Tomorrow, quitting the strand.
There are but two seasons in other times:
Hope shares with memory the year
The sea is our laver, the shore our divan
Time and our tide settled here ...
The sinuous waves collapse, break, in reason
Do the hours run faster when we recede
Back to the secular age?
My prop watch I bind again to my arm
To prompt my entrance on a melancholy stage
I do not hate it, I do not fear it
The press of shoreless time, yet
Stay sun the day and Luna the night
For I lose this grasp of rhyme.
The gull will fly, the mullet school
Pelicans skim the sea
Dolphins silver glide in shoals:
These things, despite me, will be.
Cockle shells and angel wings
Crustacean golden mean
Somewhere the blue whale is not extinct
And in the holy ocean, remains