The Calm Cove

The Calm Cove

He would row
Until he could not.
He would row
Until his last breath
Became a gasp,
Until he could no longer
Endure the ache in his sides.

It was about him.
It was about him not
Being defeated by himself,
Not being defeated by his being
Merely human.
Pride rowed him.
The gods went on alert.

The name Prometheus
Scrolled the god’s lips,
He, the fire thief.
Could water, also,
Be conquered by man,
Made use of by man,
Over the gods’ wishes?

His shell was found,
Empty, in a cove,
On the bosom of the water.
All was calm.
The passive sky was a placid blue.
The marsh grass made as if to comment,
But did not.

Philip Kuepper
(Spring 2010)

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