Boatman

There is a misty hanging over the lake A line of pollen colorless in the smoke lapping the bank With things those outlined unreachable against the far far shore Needle outlines pines roof of an old tool shed ghostly wondering within Eyes imagined yellow peering red wet tongues hanging This the very sort of day to set one odd-dreaming There is a quiet distant music sounding then A faint ripple distant plash awakens vision I cannot see but hear the musical dipping of oars "Hey! Boatman!" I yell into the gloom "Hey! Boatman! How deep?" no reply "Would I wade out? Is there an undertow? Would I sink only make a pin-point entry be lost eternally?" I laugh No reply Still the steady dipping now growing near now far the steady dipping to a heartbeat maddening! to think he might appear at any moment dreaming to the quiet eerie music and on and on "Apparition! Won't you speak? I've watched listened for hours it seems then A breeze at last cuts the gloom My vision starts! There is no one out there "Hey! Boatman! Where?"