I took away three pictures. One was a white gull forming a half-mile arch from the pines toward Waukegan. One was a whistle in the little sandhills, a bird crying either to the sunset gone or the dusk come. One was three spotted waterbirds, zigzagging, cutting scrolls and jags, writing a bird Sanscrit of wing points, half over the sand, half over the water, a half-love for the sea, a half-love for the land. I took away three thoughts. One was a thing my people call "love," a shut-in river hunting the sea, breaking white falls between tall clefs of hill country. One was a thing my people call "silence," the wind running over the butter faced sand-flowers, running over the sea, and never heard of again. One was a thing my people call "death," neither a whistle in the little sandhills, nor a bird Sanscrit of wing points, yet a coat all the stars and seas have worn, yet a face the beach wears between sunset and dusk. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ROAST LEVIATHAN by LOUIS UNTERMEYER A HYMN WRITTEN IN WINDSOR FOREST by ALEXANDER POPE THE GARDEN by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON MRS. HARRIS'S PETITION: TO EXCELLENCIES THE LORDS JUSTICES OF IRELAND by JONATHAN SWIFT BURNING STRAWPILES by EVA K. ANGLESBURG TRISTRAM AND ISEULT by MATTHEW ARNOLD CLIO, NINE ECLOGUES IN HONOUR OF NINE VIRTUES: 1. TRUE AND CHASTE LOVE by WILLIAM BASSE |