His Peace
...for Hart Crane - In Memoriam - (1899-1932)
Words of purpose, carved and beaten,
chipped from granite's cold confines,
fashioned into filigrees
that shocked and startled simpler minds.
The Bridge, that span of subtle magic,
metaphor of time and space,
stretching skyward, swooping low,
conjoining man to style and grace.
Letters of sophistication
sent to those who praised and scorned,
ever striving for perfection,
friends were used and heros mourned.
A man at odds with stale conventions,
drunk, debauched, yet tried and true,
companionship oft cold and faithless,
he would court the dockside crew.
On a ship, confused and homeless,
wandering, he yearned for ease,
the ocean summoned this poor vagrant,
sinking deep he found his peace.
Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe | Year Posted 2009
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