Les plus lus ▸
The Sea Hold
The sea is large.
The sea hold on a leg of land in the Chesapeake hugs
an early sunset and a last morning star over the
oyster beds and the late clam boats of lonely men.
Five white houses on a half-mile strip of land . . . five
white dice rolled from a tube.
Not so long ago ... the sea was large . . .
And to-day the sea has lost nothing ... it keeps all.
I am a loon about the sea.
I make so many sea songs, I cry so many sea cries, I
forget so many sea songs and sea cries.
I am a loon about the sea.
So are five men I had a fish fry with once in a tar-paper
shack trembling in a sand storm.
The sea knows more about them than they know themselves.
They know only how the sea hugs and will not let go.