End of the Cruise
Ready to disembark,
We're mostly puff and grey.
Who else can sail this ark?
Who else afford such play?
Our bags are overpacked
Protruding like our flesh,
The proof of nothing lacked
That money can enmesh.
Before we booked, we viewed
Pictures in which the young
And svelte declared the moods
We hoped to move among.
We fidget, wait to be
Called back to land once more,
Selves dragged from the sea
We meant to leave on shore.
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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