The Embankment

I

The moon is a stone,
A white, disc stone,
That is waiting for the tide.

II

The sea is a vast,
Wide glass. And the waves are all Little knives, Shallow soft blades, - They chop the stone.

III

Take that away from me, That vast glass, The knives of the tide Have slain the moon.

IV

But I am living, A large animal,
With my teeth,
And claws,
That have taken The skin from the stone, And I call for life.

V

The moon is dead,
And my body,
A stone less corner,
Is waiting for the tide,
Like death waiting for life.

• T E Hulme