(Not part of "The Settled Dust"--don't worry, I'll post another segment soon enough. I just had a standard poem ready, so I thought I'd post it. PMT)
The distant features,
those blurred images
of the crowd upon the
shore,
and we, the departed,
those lost to the
world and held only
in the loose grasp
of memory,
and we who put our
tender hands to the
rough wood of the
capstan, turning,
turning as the
sails raise up
against the azure
of the midday sea,
and we cannot see
the hands raised
in farewell, or
in final salutation,
but only turn away
to meet the coming
waves,
the ship pulling
well and biting
at the deep green
flesh of the rollers,
taking us into
the west and out
of all reckoning.
6 comments:
"taking us into
the west and out
of all reckoning.'
I have a particular feeling for this last stanza. There was a time when going to the west and being out of all reckoning was very important to me.
wonderful imagery i love these lines
"
the ship pulling
well and biting
at the deep green
flesh of the rollers,"
"and we who put our
tender hands to the
rough wood of the
capstan, turning,
turning as the
sails raise up
against the azure
of the midday sea,"
love the voice used here, the pace in particular complements the imagery well. wonderful
Doc,
I remember that time. Thanks for stopping in.
Rackoy,
Thanks a lot. I'm glad to see a new person commenting. Hope to see you back again soon.
Rax,
Thanks so much for your kind words. Two new people in one day. How lucky can one guy be?
I hope to see you back again. I'll drop by your site at first opportunity.
Again, thanks, everyone, for coming by.
Love the imagery. I didn't even have to close my eyes. Thanks!
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