Ship as Life A Metaphor
I went along the youthful years calling myself captain. I
Believed that I was master of adaptation and map maker,
believing my course to be the carving out of
niches and revolutions. I was grossly enmeshed in steel and Titanic,
too much so to consider that I might run the ship aground
with all my youthful intention.
The twilight years approached.
I had to reckon upon this ship as life metaphor
as literal disease atrophied bones
and my unsinkable vessel wilted
to shodden steel. I, as captain, was forced to turn course.
I no longer needed the helm
and took my place in a quiet corner.
I began to wonder me as to just what I had imagined
along those youthful years when I called myself
proprietor of a second hand ship.
Poetry by inanna
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Written on 2009-08-24 at 02:10
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