…there’s time�?/FONT>

Finally embarking
 The canoe travels upstream
Inky waves
 Mark and mar the shore.

Oh Captain My Captain
 Cries a young voice
Seeking the commander
 She cries o’er and o’er
oar slaps ink
 And they glide.

In their wake
 Are monuments
To moments
 Totems with faces grotesque
Piled grins and grimaces
 Frowning smiling skyward.

Aye!  There’s the rub
 Monuments to moments
Faces piled high
 Oars slapping ink
As they glide
 O’er and o’er
As waves mark and mar
 The canoe slips on�?/FONT>

Oh Captain My Captain�?BR> She never finds shore.

1 November 2006
jlh