•March 7, 2013 • Leave a Comment


A nomad by the wasted sea

Looked out across the surf to me.

His gazing eye

All glassy, glinting,

Narrowed then, and I did spy

A thread of light to span the sea.

And lo, the mythic mariner

Caught up that light

Fast in a web

The wand’ring sight that flickered,


Far across the heave and ebb,

And shut it up inside his lantern

By the gilded prow.

‘What else’ he said,

More to himself than me,

‘May steer a man and lend him speed

But plain desire laid bare?

That leads the exile far to roam

And spurs the homeless

Searching, searching for a home.

What else indeed?’

And looking back

Across the wasted sea

I saw no man

Upon that shore

Nor any light there



(the rime-cold sea)

•December 27, 2012 • Leave a Comment

(the rime-cold sea)

There is a mythic mariner

Sailing on a shadowed sea.

He saw me in the swell to flounder,

Turned about for me.

‘What did you seek, young mariner?’

His eyes looked straight and sharp through me.

‘With good intentions, to be sure,

A glimpse of glory, clarity?’

‘All that and more,’ I said, ‘good sir,

I wanted what was fantasy,

But in the swell I fell and floundered,

No…no more for me.’

With hands the mythic mariner

Does stir the rime-cold sea.

‘I’ll take you with,’ he said, and thunder

Split the dark for me to see.

‘For all men seek that which you sought

A glimpse of glory, clarity.’