A lone walker on the sand watches gulls and imagines joining them—finding a way across the waves and leaving behind “so many troubles.” That wish feels quiet and open, not desperate; it is the thought of someone who wants to trade a heavy life for a freer one. Nearby, dory-boatmen push out through the surf, their eyes fixed on the rocks ahead as they pick a careful path. They are not dreaming of escape; they are doing the hard, attentive work of moving through danger. But both images share the same shoreline, the same boundary between solid ground and open water. The mood is calm and spare, like a held breath. There is longing here, and also a sense of respect for those who know how to navigate rough water. The poem leaves the wish unresolved, as if it could drift away like the gulls.
Eleven — Summary
I walk on sand and think to join the gulls. We'll seek a route across waves, leaving behind so many troubles.
The dory-boatmen launch through surf, eyes picking their way through rocks ahead.