SHOULDER HIGH
Take this notion. The new world is idiotic.
Why we ever landed here is beyond me.
I live among the palms and spend my
time in swimming over coconut rafts.
-
I have nothing more than stories to tell;
my mansion is crumbled and the hillside
is gone. How far can a kite fly, lacking a tail?
-
Shoulder high to the clouds, the land
and the spirit recede: Look at this as the
sights recede along the farther shore. This
is the fair isle we were after? Months at sea,
floundering and distant? Bermuda alights?
-
Tropics like this, to Virginia and all the
New World. Before I leave, I m going away,
only to abbreviate the expectation.
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