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Argonaut's Vow

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Pushed prow southerly into the golden wind:

hurt the eyes: gold pelted water: so looked less far away:

plovers huddling on the tide's last piece of shore:

Rise up in brightness: clap wings::

I told myself I'll go where eagles go: if to brimstone:

my wake a narrow river back

to its source in cedar: and when sunlight embers

the shore's soft fleece will be before me.

Source: Poetry (January 2008)

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This poem originally appeared in the January 2008 issue of Poetry magazine

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Argonaut's Vow

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