10 More Hap Bad omen in the morning and once more Late in the day, encountering face to face Two sons of bitches, each at a time and place I’d never seen either one of them before. And the day, picketed by this polluting pair, Went wrong; running in the dusk I now retrace The slight brain-lurches that put me off my pace … The slippages of heed that are my despair! So I run along full of my latest blunder — And everything’s still, but a distant simmering From the sea, the light rakes low, the tide is neap, In the strange peace I nearly halt in wonder At water in thin clear layers wavering On the flat sand — a kind of shining sleep. 21