“Is it the sea you hear in me,
Or the voice of nothing, that was you madness?”
Love is a shadow.
How you lie and cry after it.”
The future is a gray seagull Tattling in its cat-voice of departure.
Age and terror, like nurses, attend her,
And a drowned man, complaining of the great cold, Crawls up out
of the sea.”
“I shall never get you put together entirely,
Pieced, glued, and properly jointed.”
It starts here from the sound of the ground , below me .. The sound of the White in its thought of drowing deep .. Long standing one with the Blue Grey sky.. ah the wind, the wind , for every thin layer of wet long grass greenfly