Barely floating, like an ancient, leaky boat
from some lost age, with creaking joints
placed under too much constant pressure
but resistant yet; still together - just -
beneath the cracked and flaking skin,
once bright, once clear but fading now;
half-submerged in water on which once
it sat upright and maybe even perky,
defiant in those former days, those days
of bygone glory when (once upon a time)
no farthest shore seemed yet too distant,
no feint horizon failed to stir the impulse
to head out, to set out on a journey
over seas with neither map nor compass.
.
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