A man is sitting on a rock on a jetty -
so far out, it seems as if he is at sea.
He watches where the sea licks the black basalt shore,
how cirri of barnacles sweep and close,
wave after wave,
and wonders why he reached so long for happiness,
when, afterall, the catch of all his gestures was no hope.

The sea begins to pound the rocks, storms ahead.
The earth beneath the waters calls to him, softly,
more softly than any woman ever did, to rest,
but, he is thinking of the  plankton,
who, in their myriads, feed all the creatures in the sea.


			Brandywine
			10/1/96