A Memory
I remember
The crackle of the palm trees
Over the mooned white roofs of the town’¦
The shining town’¦
And the tender fumbling of the surf
On the sulphur-yellow beaches
As we sat’¦ a little apart’¦ in the close-pressing night.
The moon hung above us like a golden mango,
And the moist air clung to our faces,
Warm and fragrant as the open mouth of a child
And we watched the out-flung sea
Rolling to the purple edge of the world,
Yet ever back upon itself’¦
As we’¦
Inadequate night’¦
And mooned white memory
Of a tropic sea’¦
How softly it comes up
Like an ungathered lily.
