Poets corner: Whimsy


By Jim Lowell


The Turnabouts are flying in a breeze,

Tacking their way to listless moorings.

My son is at the tiller of his youth,

Racing Whimsy past imagined rivals.

The sense of fall is on the water now.

A troop of geese are keeping pace with him.

He lets the mainsail have a say

In speed and destination, tide and time.

Among the geese are goslings readying

Their solo flights upon the shifting winds.

Does he see his future in such things?

I see it soaring in their outstretched wings.

Jim Lowell is a winter mainlander and summer Cuttyhunk poet whose works have appeared in the Canadian Review of Literature, English, the Caribbean Writer, and elsewhere.