Winter Seascape

The sea runs back against

With scarcely time for breaking

To cannonade a slatey

And thunder under in a cave.

Before the next can fully

The headwind, blowing harder still,

Smooths it to what it was at first -A slowly rolling water-hill.

Against the breeze the breakers haste,

Against the tide their ridges

And all the sea's a dappled

Criss-crossing underneath the sun.

Far down the beach the ripples

Blown backward, rearing from the shore,

And wailing gull and shrieking

Alone can pierce the ocean roar.

Unheard, a mongrel hound gives tongue,

Unheard are shouts of little boys;

What chance has any inland

Against this multi-water noise?

Here where the cliffs alone prevailI stand exultant, neutral, free,

And from the cushion of the

Behold a huge consoling sea.