My son, looking forward
Into endless adventures,
Said to his love,
“I will take you to Sweden!”
But I have had to take his journey myself,
And report to the universe,
Where he is dispersed,
Including my heart:

“The boats in Stockholm
Are restless colts tethered
And pawing the waves,
Eager to leap out of the corral
And be galloping up the fairway
Into the midnight sun.

“I toasted you with champagne
On a pebbly shore in the canted light
And waved to the heeling yachts.
Everywhere the smell of dill and roe.”

Sometimes it seems I am marooned on an island,
And then skimming the horizon is a schooner.
On board is a grizzled captain and able-bodied seamen,
A ship’s doctor, food and water.
My shouts do not carry
And I cannot light the bonfire in time.
It sails past with you asleep in your berth,
It sails past with the daughter I never had,
It sails past not knowing my yearning and loss,
Leaving me to my vigil at the beacon.

July 4th, 2010