Writing in Whangarei

Ulysses Reconsidered

Just like Farnese’s birds, whose voices became caught
On an unchanging view of palaces in ruin,
You fell into a dream: one of rivers that ran
With sentimental ease before your family seat.
But left to choose, you changed the eternal for light,
Where gifted canon’s robes allowed your mind to turn
From thoughts of chimney smoke and gardens seldom seen,
The limestone of your end betraying words of slate.
The Fleece still hangs unclaimed, yet slowly I’m pulled back
To forest-covered hills and hard volcanic rock,
Unsure of how the tide has brought me to this shore.
Your counsel holds no truth for sailors who have come
To crave the open sea, when mesmorized by fame,
You never knew the life you claimed to hold so dear.

-Aaron Robertson

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s