THE CASTAWAY



A rebirth of sorts, and orphaning
by shipwreck in a gardenless land
part desolate, part besieged by cannibals,
either way blocked from the sea
and the green bananas, the coconuts.
My entire kingdom is an outcrop
of ancient lava, bare except
for hardly lichens even the tropical sun
cannot wither.
                            No hope, no sail brightens
the dark green desert: on such
a tiny speck can I survive?
Could I hope to survive

on any other island?

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