I fear the places I might never reach
In you—where stars encircle arctic capes
Or ice shelves stretch on, winklessly unthawed
Or oceans whirlpool round an invisible God.
But sweet, I sink into your balmy beach
And stretch where the wisteria tendril drapes
In dappled summer plats around Cape Cod;
I stroll its boardwalks by your side, unshod.
Between the stoic polar ends of earth
Abides this antidote to chilled extremes:
Say, will you stay, for what a season’s worth?
I throw my arms around your sunny beams!
So moor here; pause your journeys past the pale;
Greet your Calypso; let her stash your sail.
