A Grave

Man looking into the sea,

taking the view from those who have as much right to it as

          you have to it yourself,

it is human nature to stand in the middle of a thing,

but you cannot stand in the middle of this;

the sea has nothing to give but a well excavated grave.

The firs stand in a procession, each with an emerald turkey-

          foot at the top,

reserved as their contours, saying nothing;

repression, however, is not the most obvious characteristic of

          the sea;

the sea is a collector, quick to return a rapacious look.

There are others besides you who have worn that look —

whose expression is no longer a protest; the fish no longer

          investigate them

for their bones have not lasted:

men lower nets, unconscious of the fact that they are

          desecrating a grave,

and row quickly away — the blades of the oars

moving together like the feet of water-spiders as if there were

          no such thing as death.

The wrinkles progress among themselves in a phalanx — beautiful

          under networks of foam,

and fade breathlessly while the sea rustles in and out of the

          seaweed;

the birds swim throught the air at top speed, emitting cat-calls

          as heretofore —

the tortoise-shell scourges about the feet of the cliffs, in motion

          beneath them;

and the ocean, under the pulsation of lighthouses and noise of

          bell-buoys,

advances as usual, looking as if it were not that ocean in which

          dropped things are bound to sink —

in which if they turn and twist, it is neither with volition nor

          consciousness.

A Grave" was written shortly after the sinking of the Lusitania and after Moore's brother Warner joined the Navy as a chaplin and went out to sea. The sea was one of Moore's favorite topics, but she was also very much aware of the sea as a grave. The sea, for Moore, was both beautiful and deadly. Once, when she and her mother were standing together admiring the sea, a man came and stood in from of them, Moore's mother remarked about how people seem to feel the need to stand in the middle of things instead of stepping back to get the full picture, and this incident became part of the poem.