Parting The Sea
Fog hides the shallow ditch, no more
Than a grassy furrow, marking the edge of our land.
Oak wees and thorned acacia bend over it,
Like combers of a green sea.
The thinning out begins on this side,
Where there is barley, tobacco.
Green peas climbing on a spindly branch.
So much naming is not natural.
It must be cared for, thinned
And watered every day.