And, as with the sirens whose songs taunted Ithacan ears,
pubescent promises tore me from the mast of innocence
to which I was so securely tied.
Waters, once clear and calm, safe and nurturing,
now ran deep, were pregnant with mystery,
anxiety, danger, the unknown.
At first I tried to return,
but after one glance of faint recognition,
Argos rolled over and died.
Childhoods balm, lost to Penelopean yearning
and the mountain. . . barely a memory.
© 2002 Edward King
Edward King is the pen name of a retired commercial airline pilot living in Southern California. He is currently writing his memoirs.
For more of his work in TheScreamOnline, visit the Talent Index.
Contact Mr. King at oedipusrex[AT]comcast.net
(replace [AT] with @)