Moonless waters that stretched forever

LET ME BEGIN AGAIN

                   by Philip Levine

Let me begin again as a speck

of dust caught in the night winds

sweeping out to sea. Let me begin

this time knowing the world is

salt water and dark clouds. The world

is grinding and sighing all night, and dawn

comes slowly and changes nothing. Let

me go back to land after a lifetime

of going nowhere. This time lodged

in the feathers of some scavenging gull

white above the black ship that docks

and broods upon the oily waters of

your harbor. This leaking freighter

has brought a hold full of hayforks

from Spain great jeroboams of dark

Algerian wine, and quill pens that can't

write English. The sailors have stumbled

off toward the bars or the bright houses.

The captain closes his log and falls asleep.

1/10/'28/. Tonight I shall enter my life

after being at sea for ages quietly

in a hospital named for an automobile.

The one child of millions of children

who has flown alone by the stars

above the black wastes of moonless waters

that stretched forever, who has turned

golden in the full sun of a new day.

A tiny wise child who this time will love

his life because it is like no other.