Going Back to School
The boat ploughed on. Now Alcatraz was pastAnd all the grey waves flamed to red againAt the dead sun’s last glimmer. Far and vastThe Sausalito lights burned suddenlyIn little dots and clumps, as if a penHad scrawled vague lines of gold across the hills;The sky was like a cup some rare wine fills,And stars came as he watched—and he was freeOne splendid instant—back in the great room,Curled in a chair with all of them besideAnd the whole world a rush of happy voices,With laughter beating in a clamorous tide…Saw once again the heat of harvest fumeUp to the empty sky in threads like glass,And ran, and was a part of what rejoicesIn thunderous nights of rain; lay in the grassSun-baked and tired, looking through a mazeOf tiny stems into a new green world;Once more knew eves of perfume, days ablazeWith clear, dry heat on the brown, rolling fields;Shuddered with fearful ecstasy in bedOver a book of knights and bloody shields…The ship slowed, jarred and stopped. There, straight ahead,Were dock and fellows. Stumbling, he was whirledOut and away to meet them—and his backSlumped to the old half-cringe, his hands fell slack;A big boy’s arm went round him—and a twistSent shattering pain along his tortured wrist,As a voice cried, a bloated voice and fat,“Why it’s Miss Nancy! Come along, you rat!”