Upon the sweltering sea's enormous round,
Asmoke, adazzle, brown and brown and gold,
A hushed light falls. . . .
Then clouds without a sound
Darken the sea within their curtain's fold.

The sombre clouds through which the sick sun climbs
Smoke slowly on. Below there is no breath.
The long black beach turns livid.
The sea chimes.
I taste the fulness of my spirit's death.