Odysseus comes home
I’ve watched you pulling threads to stall the day
when men could not therefore contain themselves;
when all around you swirled and all betray
fidelity, and those Phoenician elves
came circling in your ears and yet you still
remained, and tended to your weave with zeal.
And if I threw my cloak aside to fill
your heart again, how would it make you feel
to know the sun has wrinkled me? The waves
Poseidon threw upon my shoulders sagged
my brow, and I am withered like the staves
of oaks marooned on Circe’s island, hagged.
But you, it is as though I never left,
while Kronos raged, accusing you of theft.