On a Primitive Canoe

 Here, passing lonely down this quiet lane, 
Before a mud-splashed window long I pause 
To gaze and gaze, while through my active brain 
Still thoughts are stirred to wakefulness; because 
Long, long ago in a dim unknown land, 
A massive forest-tree, ax-felled, adze-hewn, 
Was deftly done by cunning mortal hand 
Into a symbol of the tender moon.
Why does it thrill more than the handsome boat That bore me o'er the wild Atlantic ways, And fill me with rare sense of things remote From this harsh land of fretful nights and days? I cannot answer but, whate'er it be, An old wine has intoxicated me.

Poem by
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - On a Primitive CanoeEmail Poem | Create an image from this poem

Top Claude McKay Poems

Analysis and Comments on On a Primitive Canoe

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem On a Primitive Canoe here.