The calloused grass lies hard br Against the cracking plain: br Life is a grayish stain; br The salt-marsh hems my yard. br br Dry dikes rise hill on hill; br In sloughs of tidal slime br Shellfish deposit lime, br Wild seafowl creep at will. br br The highway, like a beach, br Turns whiter, shadowy, dry: br Loud, pale against the sky, br The bombing planes hold speech. br br Yet fruit grows on the trees; br Here scholars pause to speak; br Through gardens bare and Greek br I hear my neighbor's bees.