-Requiem for Thomas Curry still among the living-

Thomas Curry, who has made a success of himself as administrator,

Is another one who walks by the house.

He lives at the road's end where it slopes downward toward the river,
The first stroke of Mount Hope Bay.

Tall, lean, calm of demeanor, known from the warm

Romance of the old neighborhood.

The exceptionalism of the ancient explorers is that they weren’t hindered

By the fear of sailing off the edge of the Earth, although ships "lost at sea"

Might very well have been victims of sailing over the edge into the realm

Of terrible serpents and dragons. 

For a moment, I’ll be that ancient seafarer who, long before Magellan,

First noticed that ships appearing on the horizon were initially sighted

By the mainmast’s flying ensign.

Then the great mast headers came into view, then the hand-carved bowsprit

And the Earth was imagined as a sphere for the first time.

A romantic fantasy to be sure. The Earth is far too large for a ship

On the horizon to be seen rising above its curvature, but I like the imagery.

So this is how I will see Thomas Curry tomorrow.

I’ll wait for his appearance near the fieldstone wall, street-side at the house.

First his head will appear on the horizon where the sloping road

Meets the water at his back, then his neck, shoulders and torso

Will be seen on the approach, his long arms swaying

For the balance he needs and then his legs with his feet on level ground,

Long-striding in the direction toward the house where I live.

But I won’t stick around at the wall to greet him.

I’ll go back inside, waiting there for the great discovery
To pass by the street-side windows for the moment when
The Earth will become a sphere again.

Swansea, Massachusetts