Classic Poem

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.