Boise, Idaho, author and reference librarian Grove Koger brings us this heady, moody, mythic bit of verse, to inspire your own musings.
Having arrived at last
you will have never left
And those spires
dancing in the afternoon heat
are the spires of
the palace of dreams
Aren’t they?
And the deserted quay
and the empty sky
and the boats drawn up
in the sand
The gale forever
threatening, forever receding—
They all, all appear
on the stamp on the letter
you mailed yourself
last night in your sleep
