Tor House

If you should look for this place after a handful

       of lifetimes:

Perhaps of my planted forest a few

May stand yet, dark-leaved Australians or the coast

       cypress, haggard

With storm-drift; but fire and the axe are devils.

Look for foundations of sea-worn granite, my fingers

       had the art

To make stone love stone, you will find some remnant.

But if you should look in your idleness after ten

       thousand years:

It is the granite knoll on the granite

And lava tongue in the midst of the bay, by the mouth

       of the Carmel

River-valley, these four will remain

In the change of names. You will know it by the wild

       sea-fragrance of wind

Though the ocean may have climbed or retired a little;

You will know it by the valley inland that our sun

       and our moon were born from

Before the poles changed; and Orion in December

Evenings was strung in the throat of the valley like

       a lamp-lighted bridge.

Come in the morning you will see white gulls

Weaving a dance over blue water, the wane of the moon

Their dance-companion, a ghost walking

By daylight, but wider and whiter than any bird in

       the world.

My ghost you needn't look for; it is probably

Here, but a dark one, deep in the granite, not

       dancing on wind

With the mad wings and the day moon.