The Sea The Sea, like a blue-green maiden of misty harbor will emerge back and again, breathing on the waves of storms, wild spotted scorn of frantic seas, the tremble-filled swell growing. In deep silence they spin and shimmer, no anchor could weigh or hold for long; while from kept secrets born, darkness disturbs— O, sea! Marbled with jade and azure light! Even your distance beckons others closer—so vague, yet screaming to canvas colors!!! It deepens the sight in azure brawl, captivating intricate ambers of the dusk. The sea that turns lyres of rain, my lily strokes your tide. High, a sky dips down around you!
Fare above the rest—along, may rise! An unforgotten craft spun entirely pink, I read the waves: imagination!”

• Marianne Moore