On the Promenade

WHAT DREW THE WOMEN TO THE PROMENADE

SOME VISCERAL FEELING

THAT THEIR MEN

WERE COMING HOME

SOME CALLING

OVER DISTANCES

THAT THEIR MEN

WERE COMING HOME

OLD WIVES TALES

I USED TO THINK

TOLD TO ME BY MY MOTHER

A CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER

AND FAMILIAR

WITH LONG JOURNEY'S SEPARATION

AND UNCERTAIN HOMING

HOW COULD THEY KNOW

BUT THEY WOULD GATHER

LIKE PIGEONS COMING HOME TO ROOST

THEY WOULD TALK

BUT THEIR EYES WERE ALWAYS OUT TO SEA

SOMETIMES THE YEARNING MUST HAVE BEEN TOO GREAT

FOR THEY WOULD GATHER WEEKS TOO SOON

THEN GO HOME SAD

AND LATER LEARN

THE SHIP HAD BEEN IN DISTRESS

THEY'D STAY AWAY FOR A WHILE

THEN SHYLY

LIKE BIRDS RETURNING AFTER A NOISE

THEY WOULD COME BACK

THEY KNEW

THEIR HEARTS WERE SAILING BACK TO THEM

STAND UPON THE PROMENADE FOR ME

WATCH THE SUN OR MOON

MAKE GOLDEN PATHS FOR ME TO FOLLOW

I AM TIRED OF STORMS

MY HEAD IS ENTITLED TO REST

TO AN END OF SHADOWS

I WANT TO FIND SAFE HARBOR IN YOUR ARMS

COME TAKE ME IN YOUR ARMS AND SAY

YOUR JOURNEY'S DONE

DROP ANCHOR

YOU ARE HOME

FRANK A VOLLMER