Proteus

 

 

He has no provenance,
who stands beneath the sky,
the land to his back;
who lifts the sea-borne stylus, writes:

The everlasting gale of time
upon the limbus of the sea,
effacing all that's written in the sand.

Air-strong hands that bear
the rounded worlds.

 

 

 

 

Language in a Narrow Place:
Titles and first lines