Image above © mojourner
Smooth between sea and land Is laid the yellow sand, And here through summer days The seed of Adam plays. Here the child comes to found His unremaining mound, And the grown lad to score Two names upon the shore. Here, on the level sand, Between the sea and land, What shall I build or write Against the fall of night? Tell me of runes to grave That hold the bursting wave, Or bastions to design For longer date than mine. Shall it be Troy or Rome I fence against the foam, Or my own name, to stay When I depart for aye? Nothing: too near at hand, Planing the figure sand, Effacing clean and fast Cities not built to last And charms devised in vain, Pours the confounding main. --A.E. Housman (More about this poet)
As we head into summer in our hemisphere, this felt like the right time to share this poem by A. E. Housman. We are fortunate to live very close to the sea and I will never tire of the delight of seaside sunsets.
Sharing a poem by a different poet each month is the feature that speaks to me best, if not exactly my stated course goal.
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