Reuel Dennev
THE OCEAN URN
"Facing west from California's shores,"
Partial
J.
Merriwell, out walking, before the after-glow,
Through the pale mist made sloping way
Past white houses. 0, sea-kissed San Francisco.
Then, at once, residential quite ran out,
Giving to park and fir. Low, foggy green
Threw smell of cedar and its poignant oil.
Beyond an empty lot, a cliffside scene,
Only a matter of yards, lay .all the sea.
Our western routes end there. There in the dark
Merriwell to Merriwell had his say.
The lack of a myth can be strong as a myth
When murder without a meaning is what is meant:
The force in this sea compels us to
admit
That wherever we loved before, the proton went.
Gods dead in a smoke head may leave us a clearer wit
As
their flash dies from our wine.
So smoke while the cliff shakes. Nietzsche
Was probably more of a neighbor than yours or mine.
And the leaders are loved when they lead, the sun
Is followed by the sunners for
its
glow.
Our betters went, not merely because they were weak,
To talk to the dark and the light where we all flow.
