Those Who Wait .
Stilled am I in lull of night
No ocean’s move save salted spite
And where go I in loose-rigged winds?
No bounding heave, no push and cleave,
No rising line or white-mane minds.
All quietened like the muted damned,
Horizon-fixed with tar glued stares
Through eyes that blaspheme stars,
And with curses for a speechless sea
And the stolen shore yet far way.
I lie silent, waiting and becalmed.
Just these thoughts for company.
Oh take me home to those,
that wait for me.