MINSTREL WEATHER 



for miles along the upper beach, but is 

 feathered near the water by the stroking 

 of little afterwaves, and draped unendingly 

 with umber bands of kelp. Here as in 

 no place seen the seaweed laces are 

 edged with colors ground in unlighted 

 depths, as if the tide cast carvings of 

 lapis lazuli and feldspar up with the argent 

 pebbles, and all the drifting algae are in- 

 crusted with yellow shells. Shoreward the 

 palms climb up until they make a green 

 horizon, and their unnatural fronds sink 

 down again like green chiffon that veils 

 the entrance to the pensive forest. Vines 

 with scented flowers as intangible as fog 

 creep over root and trunk, and among them 

 now and then with soundless foot and 

 molten eye a leopard winds. Perpetual 

 sunset wanes and glows behind the palms. 

 There is never any wind. The violence of 

 the ocean, the beasts, the tempest, is held 

 in languorous leash while the treader of the 

 sands goes on with unfelt steps toward 

 rocks where the waters break importunate 

 and sink moaning back. They hang black 

 above a cave, and waves come in to prowl 

 and snakes with scales like gems twine 

 back and forth, glittering in the half light, 



[74] 



