I used to want to live on some sunny bight,
Waking every morning to the pound
Of the surf, the scent of salt, and every night
Drifting off to sleep to that selfsame sound.
Even in youth, not consciously in want
Of solace, I delighted in that sweet
And steady rhythm: the great beating heart
Of nature that would never cease to beat.
But the vast consolation of the waves
Yielded to metropolitan strife and woe,
To dreadful diurnal tilting with fools and knaves
And desolate nights; until I managed to
Forge this gracious life in this tranquil town,
On this quiet hilltop, far from any shore.
Yet as the pleasant, peaceful days count down,
I brood in silence on the ocean’s roar.
Bruce Bawer is the author of several books. An American writer, he has lived in Norway for over two decades.