The Greater Ferry

local_library The Greater Ferry

by Jack Harvey

Published in Issue No. 237 ~ February, 2017

Afric and Ind,

my souls,

are fastnesses,

are fantasies

buried in the sands

of the cartographer’s desert;

green burials

hoarded up and treasuries

remote and golden

as Midas’ child

stone cold in the palace.

No gift

where the head remembers

and the heart forgets;

valueless

Tiberius’ bepimpled countenance

on Augustus’ aureate trunk.

Passions, crimes are

pursued to the end;

tumors grow powerfully

in the gloomy jungles

of beginnings.

Afric and Ind,

friends, tissues of fragrance,

plasmas, rivers

stretched from

hearth to hearth.

Queen Bess and her men

trod new-minted shores

it seemed

moonlings or troglodytes

inhabited;

tinkling cymbals

whining crumhorns:

soft Indian

and naked savage hooted

in bush and brake.

Precious scions

we amuse ourselves

with quaint voyages

to Muscovy or Ind;

simple hardships.

Africa and India,

my serfs,

are there.

Giants at bay

they push the sunrise

more and more to the east:

let our cowboys, our Ulysses,

our connoisseurs of simple rewards

take heed and,

move by move,

plant stock

on a safer shore.

account_box More About

Jack D. Harvey’s poetry has appeared in Scrivener, Mind In Motion, Slow Dancer, The Antioch Review, Bay Area Poets’ Coalition, The University of Texas Review, The Beloit Poetry Journal, The Piedmont Journal of Poetry and a number of other on-line and in print poetry magazines over the years. The author has been writing poetry since he was sixteen and lives in a small town near Albany, N.Y. He was born and worked in upstate New York. He is retired from doing whatever he was doing before he retired. He once owned a cat that could whistle "Sweet Adeline," use a knife and fork and killed a postman.