People yawn
As they get swallowed up
By the coming tropic cascade-
The castles of the sea-
Of everything they
And all their ancestors
Have ever felt.

It proclaims nothing but itself,
They- them- they march
Through our towns like
Kinds, gods, destroyers.

They wash through our hearts
Like childhood
Young garden memories
And suburbs,
Vague houses.

We could never hold on,
And we hardly bow.

You’re safely unaware,
I can’t catch up,
It whirls my heart with it,
And takes it to the
Deep lavender east.