Article in Arts / Literature / Poetry
Dream Driver


It was not how fast but how straight the ship
Cut through the waters, writhing or serene …
The three men themselves in a line as straight,
Prow, amidships, and stern, where a hand larger
Than any I remember held the rudder
As if arm and rudder were one device.
Amidships the youth elated held on tight
Scanning the horizon in all directions,
From time to time throwing back his mane
To revel in the wind and sing his heart out.
In the prow hunched low and thwart, shuddering,
A thin but muscled hank of bone clutched at the rail
And stared never wavering into the deep.
Suddenly a terrible lunge, as from the stern,
The ship never yawing — and the youth was gone.
As the two of them struggled to save themselves,
A voice like thunder pealed above, “It was time.”
Clambering over the wreckage they told me
The ship would never sail so straight again,
But the voice was already reassembling it
As I manned my berth and felt the power
Death had bestowed on a vessel so weak.

R Allen Shoaf Identity Verified

About the Author 

R Allen Shoaf
EROTIC RECKONINGS, my second volume of poetry, can now be purchased from New Plains Press or from Amazon. My third volume, PIED-PIPER PHILOL

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