| Abstrakt: |
The emergent sirens The alarms in sterile corridors the worries, the weight All fall astern Ahead a broad expanse too great to fathom A nearly infinite sky, thick with clouds and Before heaving waters carry everything away a chance to redraw the map Practiced eyes so used to making sense of small things are sightless now, unable to focus on anything but the tranquil horizon, serene as a grave Balancing on legs Long accustomed to strain I am weightless The waves of a titanic sea break over the bow of my Concern Decks awash Thirty-six years before the mast All the mysterious symptoms All of the ill All those years spent Seeing others through the worst of storms Spindrift lustrates all of this Don't let me go, the sirens sing Don't let me go ... I let go Ten days out from Hospital Bay and the outlines of its hectic shore are already vanishing The only fibrillation that of whitecap on wave. [Extracted from the article] |
