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Neptune II

Three motions converge here:
taut flight of streamlined form
of ships at ponderous rest
on choppy water, a stew
of broken light and broken motion.

Ships of and not of water,
made for it, chafing against
its tether, all graceful assertive
lines and curves: Sleek arched
jut of bow, simple sweep
of spars and masts.

Here the flutter of a million
harbor wavelets converge into
the rocking of a whole, as the earth's
spinning is a whole, these tons
of painted rust-speckled metal
and bleached and varnished wood
all rocking together (even
the little things, bowls in the galley,
propane tanks, oars, secured to move
but as the whole moves),

here easing
and uneasing against its lines,
a slow heave of horizons
belying the dark juddered-up reflections
that show what a chaos of quick forces
average into this bulky movement
(Hear the creaking, where the sea
says, "You can't deny me!")

which, itself, belies the dreaming
of those who taper and feather
these birds prepared for flight.

Dean Blehert

Last Updated: October 6, 2002

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