House on a Cliff by Louis MacNeice
Indoors the tang of a tiny oil lamp. Outdoors
The winking signal on the waste of sea.
Indoors the sound of the wind. Outdoors the wind.
Indoors the locked heart and the lost key.
Outdoors the chill, the void, the siren. Indoors
The strong man pained to find his red blood cools,
While the blind clock grows louder, faster. Outdoors
The silent moon, the garrulous tides she rules.
Indoors ancestral curse-cum-blessing. Outdoors
The empty bowl of heaven, the empty deep.
Indoors a purposeful man who talks at cross
Purposes, to himself, in a broken sleep.
~~~I will probably share a few more photos from my solo weekend at the Oregon coast, but here is one for today. The poem is of a much darker mood than the emotions I felt when absorbed in the scene. I was driving the old Otter Crest Loop road and stopped at this viewpoint to think. It was such a great spot that I stayed awhile and read a chapter of the book I am currently reading.