(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963 / San Francisco)

Once By The Pacific

The shattered water made a misty din.
Great waves looked over others coming in,
And thought of doing something to the shore
That water never did to land before.
The clouds were low and hairy in the skies,
Like locks blown forward in the gleam of eyes.
You could not tell, and yet it looked as if
The shore was lucky in being backed by cliff,
The cliff in being backed by continent;
It looked as if a night of dark intent
Was coming, and not only a night, an age.
Someone had better be prepared for rage.
There would be more than ocean-water broken
Before God's last Put out the light was spoken.

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Comments (8)

how old are this poem
hi people i am cool and i am doing this because
Such a magnitude similarly of the foretold grip of anxiety
Am I the only one who thinks of sex with this poem It sounds like the ocean wants to pound
For the most part, modern poetry is substantially oblivious to the existence of God. It is truly refreshing to find a poem which acknowledges his existence, and his awful power.
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