XXIII—A SUMMER DAY DREAM
Reading edition
To Foster Follett
If there were many miles of me How I would love to trail My length along the cooling sea Above the brown sea kale. Were there five thousand feet of me Instead of five feet four, A thousand times as cool I'd be Swimming from shore to shore. And when I saw a brewery Upon some cape or isle I'd crawl out of the dripping sea And greet it with a smile. Then all my lovely coils I'd wrap Around that brewery, And when I'd squeezed out every drap Slide back into the sea.