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Odysseus is Gone

              And slendering to his burning rim

              Into the flat blue mist the sun
              Drops out and all our day is done.


I see it happening late—
                                  your face becomes elsewhere
                      slendering like
          that sun

you’re sinking, sunken, gone
                                  ocean-heavy to your bed and
                      we (the shadowing
          land?)

are soon bereft of you.
                                  On days like these we
                      don’t get to wave
          goodbye—

your sudden night has come
                                  and we must let you lie till
                      tides turn home
          again.

I'll say my simple things
                                  send metaphors to the wind
                      while distant harbour
          lights

twinkle in the bay.
                                  Can you be the one to stay?
                      When sand is washed
          away

water will rush to fill its place.
                                  Am I needed more than you?
                      O, give me purest
          sight—

The past is unassailable...
                                  Your chimera so ancient...
                      The horizon pities
          no one...

Stay on these
                      local seas, shimmer white sail
          tonight.


Caroline Clark

PN Review

November / December 2017


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