At Sea

To A. B. G., U.S. 8. M-

Far out at sea a sail is drifting-

Like a petal,

Like a white moth,

Like a scrap of paper blown by the wind.

O white-petal sail-

Like a moth,

Like a scrap of paper,

Like me!

O ebb and flow and infinitude of the sea-

As strange, as insurgent, as inevitable

As my love!

DAISIES

My lover is a sailor.

If he misses me at all

Every day I greet a sailor

Walking lonely down the street-

Give him cigarettes, a sweater,

Or a box of something sweet;

And I tell him, if he's thinking

Of a girl somewhere out west,

Not to worry or be lonesome,

Just keep liking her the best.