Standing in November (as the dead 
Brown color seeps into the land), 
In waders and in water, with a red

        All down the coast 
were regiments of jellyfish (men-of-war, 
         they often congregate at docks); 

In the 26th year of my age 
I, two ears, two eyes, two hands only 
(But only is enough to take the town) 

The empty mills brood on the river, grim 
with boarded doors and blackened eyes as bleak 
as those of men who might have tales to spin 

These eyes an accusation. 
Or quiet question 
Containing its own answer.