by Harry




I think of myself as a distant ship,
a man sailing—
without love or destination;
A place from the rocky shore with
your pretty-glass you can see me
standing alone on the deck:

Blue eyes framing the horizon —
little dim mirrors of ruin,
And the waves and the thunder
made silent all around me —
And the depths of dread calm left
for no one to hear—
but the echoless.

When night comes, look through
your pretty-glass at the gleaming
of fires all about: look at
the chaos of stars in my eyes.

by John Feaster


2 Comments to “Voyage”

  1. John…. a kaladioscope of emotions…well done!!
    Emotion Check
    I did and emotion check the other day
    Just to make sure my thoughts were not astray
    Every thing seemed to be in order
    As I say seemed in order
    Who knows what tommorrow brings?

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