Sea and Land

Nothing is here but the sky,

which brightens the lone breakers-

rolling on the beach!

the white surf sounding

among the inland trees. The birds,

chirping, hang on the leaves

like modern flowers, with eyes and. mouth

and wings that seek the seeker out;

whose chatter is recorded in our books

like an auto horn!

yet where autos cannot ride the breakers,

cannot glide through forests, climb on trees;

not made of gears that spin

the crowded fronts of the sagging world -

where the roads in ovals thin

the whirling passengers in uneven race;

from air, to land and sea

they drift in space.