CIVILIZATION,  Or  Something  Like  It

In Africa,

            Have  you  ever  seen  the  sun-kissed

                        sheaves  of  wind-grown  weeds

                        silkily  weave

            In  Novembers  aching  heat.

From  my  perch  in  this  monstrous  ferrous  beast

I  seek  the  reprieve  of  the  -

The  Cool  Blue  Stream,  it  flows  heavily

... (sigh)

...windingly  -

...

Poor  navigator  tho'  me,  the sun is  before  me

to  the  left,  to  the  right  and  then its above  me

Childhood  tales  of  tempestuous fares  on Robert’s Island

of  treasures  in  chests

-  certainly  this  feel  like  it.  Choppy  seas

and  misted  reefs

-  man  overboard! ’Tis a blessed thing.

Not  that he  is  lost  but  -

but – that my nerves are found

But,  musing,  I  am  at  last  home.