Young Sea by Carl Sandburg
The sea is never still. It pounds on the shore Restless as a young heart, Hunting.
The sea speaks And only the stormy hearts Know what it says: It is the face of a rough mother speaking.
The sea is young. One storm cleans all the hoar And loosens the age of it. I hear it laughing, reckless.
They love the sea, Men who ride on it And know they will die Under the salt of it
Let only the young come, Says the sea.
Let them kiss my face And hear me. I am the last word And I tell Where storms and stars come from.
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