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Sea waves are
green and wet,
But up from where they die,
Rise
others vaster yet,
And those are brown and dry.
They are the sea made land
To come at the fisher
town,
And bury in solid sand
The men she could not
drown.
She may know cove and cape,
But she
does not know mankind
If by any change of shape,
She hopes to cut off mind.
Men left her a ship to
sink:
They can leave her a hut as well;
And be but
more free to think
For the one more cast-off shell.
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