“The end of all our exploring / Will be to arrive where we started / And know the place for the first time”
T.S. Eliot
Not quite the hero
I’d expected
Just a story-telling reptile
Still, a miracle perhaps, but
So much lizard
In the moment
Underneath the tailcoat
You’d be forgiven
For not seeing in between
Stretched out over a whole lifetime
So short and ill-equipped
The awkward attempt at being human
A fine morning mist
Rising from the waves
Beneath a cloudless sky
Not more than a subtle haze
Hardly material
Pierced by a ray of light
Not quite yet breath
But still
The promise of a man
March 2018
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