my morning poem,,,

The Discovery of the Pacific

 They lean against the cooling car, backs pressed
 Upon the dusts of a brown continent,
 And watch the sun, now Westward of their West,
 Fall to the ocean. Where it led they went.

 Kansas to California. Day by day
 They travelled emptier of the things they knew.
 They improvised new habits on the way,
 But lost the occasions, and then lost them too.

 One night, no-one and nowhere, she had woken
 To resin-smell and to the firs' slight sound,
 And through their sleeping-bag had felt the broken
 Tight-knotted surfaces of the naked ground.

 Only his lean quiet body cupping hers
 Kept her from it, the extreme chill. By degrees
 She fell asleep. Around them in the firs
 The wind probed, tiding through forked estuaries.

 And now their skin is caked with road, the grime
 Merely reflecting sunlight as it fails.
 They leave their clothes among the rocks they climb,
 Blunt leaves of iceplant nuzzle at their soles.

 Now they stand chin-deep in the sway of ocean,
 Firm West, two stringy bodies face to face,
 And come, together, in the water's motion,
 The full caught pause of their embrace.

-- Thom Gunn