Ken's Poetry

Age And Youth

On the ferry to Picton

Where the sea divides the land,
where the ship divides the sea
and mountains of cloud spire
into a foaming sky.

Where time divides two people
strung between their eyes
and sadness blows like snowflakes
on a gentle sigh
bringing back feelings thought lost
somewhere among a lifetime journey’s dust
dry on the tongue so many years
its happy bitterness forgot
thinking in my comfort it was sweet.

Lips are salt with all the foolish words
and taut and tired the sinews of a smile,
lurking among these journeying children’s lives
with adolescent awkwardness and guile
uncomfortable throughout the stumbling day.

This absurdity! This foolishness:
daring time to take another gasp
knowing like all other stolen dreams
this golden fantasy will turn to brass.