![]() |
The hardiness of small things |
| A tremor stirs the sea Amid the darkening skies: The waters roil and seethe Along distant shorelines. In midst of dire storm A small craft bobs along The surface of the ocean All tumult to defy. Hardy, battered oars Plunge headlong through the foam As towering surf collides With creaking oaken hull. Will such small craft remain When storm and wind subside? Or shall the ship and crew On ocean's floor reside? |