Where Once The Waters Of Your Face

Where once the waters of your

Spun to my screws, your dry ghost blows,

The dead turns up its eye;

Where once the mermen through your

Pushed up their hair, the dry wind

Through salt and root and roe.

Where once your green knots sank their

Into the tided cord, there

The green unraveller,

His scissors oiled, his knife hung

To cut the channels at their

And lay the wet fruits low.

Invisible, your clocking

Break on the lovebeds of the weeds;

The weed of love's left dry;

There round about your stones the

Of children go who, from their voids,

Cry to the dolphined sea.

Dry as a tomb, your coloured

Shall not be latched while magic

Sage on the earth and sky;

There shall be corals in your

There shall be serpents in your tides,

Till all our sea-faiths die.