There is a part of me, every time I see a boat neatly tied,
that wants to jump aboard, untie the bindings
and set off. It does not matter the size craft
or whether it rows or sails or motors,
I simply have an aversion to being tied to the shore
when we are made to journey.
About this poem
I am feeling flat this morning, so this is a fragment left fallow, and brought up for restoration. . It is an odd thing, rehabbing an old poem. You know it started with an impulse, a feeling that you likely can’t recapture in the moment you live in now. So something new emerges. The original idea often lost in the creation.
Kind of a Frankenpoem.