from An Apogee
The oceans are not what they seem,
brushed by the painter of a dream;
hymned by the sea-witch and the stream,
the pelican abides.
Attuned to Hebridean song,
snatch ye the fleeting antiphon
of Hebron, where Calliope
versing the nereid hides!
The eagles’ youth stands in the quay
penned by some metaphysic scribe
immortal in the diatribe
of rocks against the sea!