Sunday, May 16, 2021

When the Ship of Theseus Sailed to War

All your flags were flying. Weaving
Women had spent ten thousand hours
A yard, yielding sails of woolens.

Your oars below were made of teak
Carved from the forest primeval.
Your astrolabe had been rescued

And refurbished in bronze once found
In the teeth of Leviathan.
You flew your flags of stars and bars

And stripes of many colors, torn
From rainbows and stormy movements
In clouds of crowds, whites, blacks, and blues.

You were proud of your motley crew,
Each one of them original,
And unique, and ready to swarm

Any coast, any other ship
That dared to sail the same oceans
That had always belonged to you.

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