Gallant Horses Poem by Joseph Narusiewicz

Deep in the sea there grows a soul
Seagulls circle the films of Bergman
Fragments run like ghosts
Lanterns of another century
Joyce recited in disjointed fog
Language has become crumbs
The old farm with ancient rocks

Something soft and blue
Something real and true
Mariners pass me like Ahab
Clouds shallow with rain
Even time seems timid

You have come into my life
You tell me of your joy
You live in a green bedroom
Then you leave
No smile or temptation
No guile or saccharine drama

We are like gold coins in the drawer
We wait and nothing is spent
Hollow phrases
Kafka on the shelf
Words washed ashore on an island
Ships marooned in French novels
Yarn of red with no hands
Gallant horses march without exit