A Distant Ship
Am I afraid, or am I being slowly discouraged.
Dismayed by the emptiness of my quivering heart.
Am I consumed, or am I being bodily starved.
Eaten by the cells of my inner sentiments.
Am I infatuated, or have I been possessed.
Devoured by the recess of my lonely soul.
Am I swimming after the impossible love-boat.
Drowning in the wake of that passing icebreaker.
Ivor Steven (c) September 2017