In the boat of myself on this ancient river,
I paddle
then panic
as genteel swells turn to rapids.
The waves soar above my head
and block my vision, foam
surrounds and towers, I am blocked,
I am enclosed and cut off
The stream bends and passes
through a city.
The crush subsides
beneath the monuments.
A fire polarizes the city.
The roofs disagree
and all burn the same way,
but not all catch.
Stone houses a hundred years old stand dark.
An old palace’s moat keeps it serene.
The cathedral has burned a dozen times and been rebuilt.
Ancestral ruins can burn no more.
I wear the city’s history like a cloak
and conjure a fog to put out every spark
before it can reach me.
Battered by the waves I gasp, but do not sink
and ride on toward time’s great ocean.