Волны

           Iamtobecastupanddownamongthesemenandwomen,withtheirtwitchingfaces,withtheirlyingtongues,likeacorkonaroughsea.LikearibbonofweedIamflungfareverytimethedooropens.Iamthefoamthatsweepsandfillstheuttermostrimsoftherockswithwhiteness;Iamalsoagirl,hereinthisroom.’

           Thesun,risen,nolongercouchedonagreenmattressdartingafitfulglancethroughwateryjewels,bareditsfaceandlookedstraightoverthewaves.Theyfellwitharegularthud.Theyfellwiththeconcussionofhorses’hoovesontheturf.Theirsprayroselikethetossingoflancesandassegaisovertheriders’heads.Theysweptthebeachwithsteelblueanddiamond-tippedwater.Theydrewinandoutwiththeenergy,themuscularity,ofanenginewhichsweepsitsforceoutandinagain.Thesunfelloncornfieldsandwoods,riversbecameblueandmany-plaited,lawnsthatslopeddowntothewater’sedgebecamegreenasbirds’featherssoftlyrufflingtheirplumes.Thehills,curvedandcontrolled,seemedboundbackbythongs,asalimbislacedbymuscles;andthewoodswhichbristledproudlyontheirflankswerelikethecurt,clippedmaneontheneckofahorse.

           Inthegardenwherethetreesstood,thickoverflowerbeds,ponds,andgreenhousesthebirdssanginthehotsunshine,eachalone.Onesangunderthebedroomwindow;anotheronthetopmosttwigofthelilacbush;anotherontheedgeofthewall.Eachsangstridently,withpassion,withvehemence,asiftoletthesongburstoutofit,nomatterifitshatteredthesongofanotherbirdwithharshdiscord.