| |
| to the severe |
|
|
| he stood straight |
| a mast with a sheet |
| sail around his body, |
| head tilted leeward |
| wind through the window |
| cotton palpitate |
| |
| he looked part Aeolus |
| part Odysseus |
| a swept-together demi-god |
| yet more man |
| than before. |
| |
| the sea between us buffets me— |
| I am coasts away |
| |
| and him adrift |
| mooring severed |
| sets his course |
| his face covered by mist and fog. |
| |
|
3.29.04 |
|
s.spachman |
|