Hell

R. B. VAUGHN speaks: “After so many years of pursuing the ideal I came home. But I had caught sight of it. You see it sometimes in the blue-silver wake Of island schooners, bound for Anegada, say. And it takes other forms. I saw it flickering once In torches by the railroad tracks in Medellín. When I was very young I thought that love would come And seize and take me south and I would see the rose; And that all ambiguities we knew would merge Like orchids on a word. Say this: I sought the immortal word.” So saying he went on To join those who preceded him; and there were those that followed.