Expatriate

...inspired by 'With a Photograph to Zell' by Hart Crane We scan the skies as vapor sails, made wide by distance, destinations guessed at, criss-cross trails of global peregrinations; two of thousands flying high 'til touchdown, from a roaring to a sigh. Time and separation matter not, our spirits meld where'er we land, cities mysterious and grand, we simmer in a melting pot. In early years we settled down, Republic versus Queen and Crown, three thousand miles, an ocean's span of redefining can't and can. An innocent, so far abroad, an interstitial, like a fraud, forever seeks the real me while clinging to your constancy; expatriate, with memories of England dear, the land I love.