There Is A Boat Down On The Quay

There is a boat down on the quay come home at last. The paint's chipped, the sails stained as if Time's pissed up against them. I imagine the sea routes it's followed, Sailing through the world's sunken veins With its cargo of longings; A little boat that's nuzzled its way Into the armpits of forests, That's sliced through the moon's reflection, Through the phosphate that clings to the lips of waves. I knew its crew once, Those boys manacled to freedom Who set sail over half a century ago, And were like giants to me. A solitary child in awe of oceans I saw them peel their shadows from the land And watched as they departed. What did they think when they peered Over the rim of the world, Where Time roared and bubbled And angels swooped like swallows? Reading an ancient Morse code of starlight, Stranded by the longing to be elsewhere, What secrets did they learn to forget? I longed to be among them, A passenger curled up in fate's pocket, I longed to be a part of them - Those ghosts who set sail in my childhood, Those phantoms who shaped me, That marvellous crew for whom I have stretched a simple goodbye Out over a lifetime.