Every farewell is farewell to the voyager
Even the Pullman is death and voyage, bell
The mournful cry of ass-birds mid-ocean
Or O, it is the earth who tolls farewell
For the finite journeying has never an end
But clairvoyant, the ash of all our heart
Who passing trial landscapes the dun color of sorrow
And sorrel weed, must hasten each toward winter now
But seemingly. For the flesh-lidded eyes, the cherry lips,
For the quick handclasp, goldfinch, febrile kiss
Each outdistances, till there is only the theory of motion
Or sailor in remorseless passage, always this
And act of severance, and one who paces wildly alone
A station platform in the cry of wind
As crowd is wheeling, and all is a chemical tear
Of last farewell to every voyager
And love, where a snowdrift of stars is in his wake
Or green leaves over the masthead, they there presage
What shores of palm outside each imaged scheme,
The islands undiscovered in our age,
For love, we are all voyagers on seas unknown.
Leave a Reply