Edwin Morgan

(27 April 1920 – 17 August 2010 / Glasgow / Scotland)

At Eighty - Poem by Edwin Morgan

Push the boat out, compañeros,
push the boat out, whatever the sea.
Who says we cannot guide ourselves
through the boiling reefs, black as they are,
the enemy of us all makes sure of it!
Mariners, keep good watch always
for that last passage of blue water
we have heard of and long to reach
(no matter if we cannot, no matter!)
in our eighty-year-old timbers
leaky and patched as they are but sweet
well seasoned with the scent of woods
long perished, serviceable still
in unarrested pungency
of salt and blistering sunlight. Out,
push it all out into the unknown!
Unknown is best, it beckons best,
like distant ships in mist, or bells
clanging ruthless from stormy buoys.


Comments about At Eighty by Edwin Morgan

  • Rookie Henrietta Lala (4/27/2013 12:33:00 PM)

    Out,
    push it all out into the unknown!
    Unknown is best, it beckons best,
    like distant ships in mist, or bells
    clanging ruthless from stormy buoys.
    Love the passion to keep going right up to the end no matter how hard it is to get there or the price you've paid on the way. Who knows what the future holds? (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
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Poem Submitted: Monday, May 16, 2011

Poem Edited: Monday, May 16, 2011


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