The calloused grass lies hard <br />Against the cracking plain: <br />Life is a grayish stain; <br />The salt-marsh hems my yard. <br /> <br />Dry dikes rise hill on hill; <br />In sloughs of tidal slime <br />Shellfish deposit lime, <br />Wild seafowl creep at will. <br /> <br />The highway, like a beach, <br />Turns whiter, shadowy, dry: <br />Loud, pale against the sky, <br />The bombing planes hold speech. <br /> <br />Yet fruit grows on the trees; <br />Here scholars pause to speak; <br />Through gardens bare and Greek <br />I hear my neighbor's bees.<br /><br />Yvor Winters<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/by-the-road-to-the-air-base/
