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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

AFTERNOON, by                    
First Line: Out of the dust of yesterday
Last Line: And bitter, burning tears.
Subject(s): Afternoon; Sea; Tears; Youth; Ocean

Out of the dust of yesterday,
(Odd, how clear they call,)
Tracking dust that was swept away,
Running footsteps fall --

Tracking dust and bringing the scent
Of sea things, dry as bone,
Withered kelp and sunbaked shell,
And salty, granite stone;

Bringing the smell and taste of the sea
Back where they have no place,
Back where time has healed a wound
And cunningly hid the trace. . . .

Footsteps have no right to come
Running down the years,
Bringing with them dust of youth,
And bitter, burning tears.

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