Cowslip and shad-blow, flaked like tethered foam
Around bared teeth of stallions, bloomed that spring
When I first read the lines, rife as the loam
Of prairies, yet like breakers cliffward leaping!
....My hand
in yours,
(Hart Crane, 'The Bridge')
Chaff, straw, splinters of wood, weeds, and the sea-gluten,
Scum, scales from shining rocks, leaves of salt-lettuce, left by the tide,
Miles walking, the sound of breaking waves, the other side of me,
Paumanok there and then I thought the old thought of likenesses,
These you presented to me you fish-shaped island...
('Sea Drift')
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