Glistening above the cartops like the snow
That banners off the drifts in a big blow,
And once I'm running I watch the falling away
Of waves heaved house-high, and the steady play
Of the cold light on wave-slopes bursting snow
Over the snowy rush and crush below --
Too much for surfers: wave-watchers here today.
And up the beach, a girl sitting quietly
On a big rock, with those waves roaring in.
And it is Marilyn, I recognize
As I come near; sun lights her gold hairpin,
And I start wondering if her blue eyes
Are seeing more than the rest of us down here see.