12 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 cliffs, now bleakly pale where they are bare. At the horizon, a low, cold light just where The sun has set; I watch it briefly cling At the sea’s rim — clear God-light, the real thing — While I run on through suddenly darkening air. Under the cliffs 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 flight Of stairs down to the beach, and window light. 25