Saturday, February 21, 2009

Sky, the blueness of quiet light.
Gentle waveless breaking,
On the lucent length of shore --
Fingertips playing.

They play no melody at all
On the nameless piano shore
From whose rhythmic beat
The day's whole meaning spills.

How fine if this sufficed to please!
How assuring if I believed
This sea, these waves, this sky
Had in them life and being.

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