lundi, janvier 16, 2012

Safe Harbor

Staring out the window

A suburban train

Every turn of the wheel one more circle


Wishing away the years spent bootless, I long.

Your arms, a familiar spectre

Not knowing you

Still I watch

Couples weave through

Routines, gavottes, ordinary time

How sanctified they

Not knowing.

Ah, but I know

Because beyond those shelters

Lie the exotic climes

In which so many hopeful sailors do

Find themselves.


Lose themselves

Shipwrecked in siren lands

Wanting wine for a thirst that

Might have once been quenched with water.

And I, listening so often

Have fancied myself more than a chronicler,

A fellow adventuress, lover, friend.

Chimerical, indeed.

My place is here among those who pattern their days.

Like a child lost in maze of misty rooms

I cry out for that which I see,

Regret the time I spent adrift in exotic shoals nearby

When what I really want is love in four/four time.

More extraordinary than it looks to those limbo lovers,

Whirling again and again around void of unfulfilled longing.

Away now the candles, incense, promise of stories untold

Not your daughter, coach, your mistress I

I wait impatiently for the stop that speaks of home

Of light, and of comfort for a child inconstant.

Forgive myself for chasing sparks when hearthlight rises tranquil.

A steady flame does not entice

But neither does it singe.

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