1908

THE LIGHT SHIP

Tea, at sea,
Is force -- the cannister
Respects it as fuel,
Or photographic medium,

The months
Are having their day,
Boats crushing
The difference waves

Make on the surface,
Bearing set
For that slip or this?
On the light ship,

More prison than a ferry,
Even -- be a bird,
Say, and see how long
You feel like hovering --

More jail than prison,
A mild stimulant
Such as mint, or
French postcards...

The city lights
A brown hum dome,
And yet in a fog --
Sugar, somehow cream.