At Sea
(by Jean Toomer) (1969)

​
Once I saw large waves
Crested with white-caps;
A driving wind
Transformed the caps
Into scudding spray--
"Swift souls," I addressed them--
They turned towards me
Startled
Sea-descending faces;
But I, not they,
Felt the pang of transience.
​
from Black American Literature: Poetry ed Darwin Turner (Colombus, Ohio, Charles E. Merrill, 1969)
​
Also found in Celebrate America: In Poetry and Art compiled by Nora Panzer (Smithsonian Institution) 

Winslow Homer, High Cliff, Coast of Maine, 1894, oil on canvas, Smithsonian American Art Museum, Gift of William T. Evans