Skip to content
1886–1950

XVIII

John Gould Fletcher

Blue, brown, blue: sky, sand, sea: I swell to your immensity. I will run over the endless beach, I will shout to the breaking spray,

I will touch the sky with my fingers. My happiness is like this sand: I let it run out of my hand.

Cookies on Poetry Cove

We use cookies to remember your language preference and — only with your consent — to learn how Poetry Cove is used. You can change your mind any time.
XVIII · John Gould Fletcher · Poetry Cove