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Navigator's Dream
It’s got to be routinish, I presume
The sun was glinting on the captain's polished rudder
The banks of Avon, clenched in gorgeous summer bloom
Spread silence, with its permanent cicadas
We've reached a waterfall, then gracefully turned round
One ivy-covered old hotel fade out of sight
Soon all the passengers will step on solid ground
And disappear in the halo of daylight
Meanwhile the captain talks about his mortgage
His navigator listens absently, he thinks
About his dream, if only he could forge it
In real size, in grandeur scheme of things.
Copyright ©
Gregory Colodub
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