|
Spread beneath me it lies---lean upland
sinewed and tawny in the sun, and
valley cool with mustard, or sweet with
loquat. I repeat under my breath
names of places I have not been to:
Crescent City, San Bernardino
---Mediterranean and Northern names.
Such richness can make you drunk. Sometimes
on fogless days by the Pacific,
there is a cold hard light without break
that reveals merely what is---no more
and no less. That limiting candour,
that accuracy of the beaches,
is part of the ultimate richness.
|
