Captain John Smith has arrived

In the delta I wait The tide of people ebbs and flows around me The cacophony of the mundane Like a coven in the fall Passing through on its way to… With the musical quality of sunshine Everlasting, instantly disappearing I cannot tell if it is warm… or not It does not shine on me It shines around me This noise within the shadow Dowsing the flame of inspiration I wear the flint down Chipping away the cold metal Sparks present themselves for the ignition The tinder is too green Too sappy Too much not the right thing it needs to be The stream of strangers passing by Their boats full of ballast Some are listing Others are true and upright Trading in the delta Some for better goods Some for pettiness Some bilging seepage from their hull Into the water Into the air With no regard for this place The peace The beauty of the noiselessness The serene The clarity About the business of the world In a place that knows nothing of such matters These are things I know little about The tide of men and the need for… I do not know what