Maine Time Poem by D A Phinney

Again to this sharp coast of black rough rock
I am at last returned
These boulder stones bleak comrades to me
Unmade and someday gone to grains
By the ocean-draw
Millennium-forged and witness to a billion suns
And the hand of God
These who feel not a single tick
Whose hearts are made of ages not of dreams
Whose thoughts are measured by the births of stars
Who bathe in the blood of the world
These unpity my small self
And ring a silent heavy note
That to my heart exception takes
And mocks my darting feelings
These unsympathize my soul
Unmake my nerve into despair
O that I could be dizzied too
By the stars in their reelings