.jpeg?ixlib=gatsbyFP&auto=compress%2Cformat&fit=max&q=50&rect=55%2C0%2C875%2C640&w=875&h=640)
Low-water years, our pond
is Walden-size, just right
to cup the Ganges.
There’s room for islands
far from any sea.
With geese and swallows
bringing flight news
from mid-prairie Cyclades
I see no need for sail.
Having heard and read
of Ithaca, I wonder
at the lure that travel casts.
Alexander died of fever
far from home
and though the world
still think they know
his name, the many
forms in which they
utter it go scattering
like gravel on the road.
Featured photograph by Daniel Casson
Dan Campion is the author of Peter De Vries and Surrealism and coeditor of Walt Whitman: The Measure of His Song. His poems have appeared in many periodicals. Two selections of his poems, A Playbill for Sunset (Ice Cube Press) and The Mirror Test (MadHat Press) are being published in 2022. He lives in Iowa City, Iowa.
Discover more from Dan Campion.
