Jan 302015
 
This island man
In his lighthouse watches
And lets the disturbed ear hear
Strangers rowing over
The silentest crest
Of a sea at peace with itself--
Strangers in lifeboats gaily pursuing
What I cannot pursue myself.

O stranger rowing over
Clasp you an arrow or glass?

Never in all my handholding days
When the trees shadowed my friends,
Did I know myself the island I wore
Skirted with simmering flesh
Dense and deep as sand;
Stars as silent as ministers
Watched my days unclasp.

O stranger rowing over
Clasp you an arrow or glass?

Now the stars like spectators
Crowd my lulling shore,
While I, alone in my clothes,
Let days, birds and hours pass
Quiet as a radar's sweep.
Shall I go to the boats,
Unloading my griefs, or keep
Eye and ear in my lighthouse locked?

O stranger rowing over
Clasp you an arrow or glass?

Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.