Land lies in water; it is shadowed green.
Shadows, or are they shallows, at its edges
Showing the line of long sea-weeded ledges
Where weeds hang to the simple blue from green.
Or does the land lean down to lift the sea from under,
Drawing it unperturbed around itself?
Along the fine tan sandy shelf
Is the land tugging at the sea from under?
The shadow of Newfoundland lies flat and still.
Bishop asks questions, turns her mind back on itself. There is an intense rationality to the poetry, about how we draw connections and  there is always a work with unstable boundaries.
The Map