TURNED TO MARIANNE
No enslavement like this before. Nothing
ever held me down. Here the cattle crossing
crosses again, and all those things of the sea
come back to remind me of where I am not.
I see who you are, and I see who you are
not. Miranda? Prospero? Ariel? All?
This is mischief making, all ye fine and
fiercest devil-makers. I shan't bestir these
tides even to chase the frothy surf once more.
And that, I see, a broken boat that is but
an illusion. Oh Captain, my Captain,
and what of the sea?