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,
confidantes, 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.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2015

Poem

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Aaron Avatar
December 6, 2015 at 10:38 PM
So much history here---personal and cultural. A great poem.
Bickerstaffe Avatar
December 7, 2015 at 8:03 AM
Thanks David! Much appreciated. Keith
Vaso Avatar
December 4, 2015 at 11:59 PM
Loved the imagery here! Now that I have read this poem I am worried I misunderstood the last, but either way, great poetry!
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