The Surfer
He thrust his joy against the weight of the sea;climbed through, slid under those long banks of foam—-(hawthorn hedges in spring, thorns in the face stinging).
How his brown strength drove through the hollow and coilof green-through weirs of water!
Muscle of arm thrust down long muscle of water;and swimming so, went out of sightwhere mortal, masterful, frail, the gulls went wheelingin air as he in water, with delight.
Turn home, the sun goes down; swimmer, turn home.
Last leaf of gold vanishes from the sea-curve.
Take the big roller’s shoulder, speed and serve;come to the long beach home like a gull diving.
For on the sand the grey-wolf sea lies, snarling,cold twilight wind splits the waves’ hair and showsthe bones they worry in their wolf-teeth.
O, wind blowsand sea crouches on sand, fawning and mouthing;drops there and snatches again, drops and again snatchesits broken toys, its whitened pebbles and shells.
Judith Wright
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