110
God-light
Low dark cloud-cover and ocean make a pair
Of jaws held just apart; in the opening,
Where I now run, no room for anything
But the cliff s, now bleakly pale where they are bare.
At the horizon, a low, cold light just where
The sun has set; I watch it briefl y cling
At the sea's rim -- clear God-light, the real thing --
While I run on through suddenly darkening air.
Under the cliff s are sanderlings and plovers
Busy with their last feeding for the day;
And a few people -- a lone girl there, two lovers,
An old lady with her dog; and part way
Down the cliff ahead a house hangs, with a fl ight
Of stairs down to the beach, and window light.