Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
These wet rocks where the tide has been, Barnacled white and weeded brown And slimed beneath to a beautiful green, These wet rocks where the tide went down Will show again when the tide is high Faint and perilous, far from shore, No place to dream, but a place to die,— The bottom of the sea once more. There was a child that wandered through A giant’s empty house all day,— House full of wonderful things and new, But no fit place for a child to play.
0
1.7k
Low-Tide
These wet rocks where the tide has been, Barnacled white and weeded brown And slimed beneath to a beautiful green, These wet rocks where the tide went down Will show again when the tide is high Faint and perilous, far from shore, No place to dream, but a place to die,— The bottom of the sea once more. There was a child that wandered through A giant’s empty house all day,— House full of wonderful things and new, But no fit place for a child to play.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
1892 - 1950/Female/American