On the Promenade

ON THE PROMENADE


WHAT DREW THE WOMEN TO THE PROMENADE
SOME VISCERAL FEELING
THAT THEIR MEN
WERE COMING HOME
SOME CALLING
OVER DISTANCES
THAT THEIR MEN
WERE COMING HOME

OLD WIVES TALES
I USED TO THINK
TOLD TO ME BY MY MOTHER
A CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER
AND FAMILIAR
WITH LONG JOURNEY'S SEPARATION
AND UNCERTAIN HOMING

HOW COULD THEY KNOW

BUT THEY WOULD GATHER
LIKE PIGEONS COMING HOME TO ROOST

THEY WOULD TALK
BUT THEIR EYES WERE ALWAYS OUT TO SEA

SOMETIMES THE YEARNING MUST HAVE BEEN TOO GREAT
FOR THEY WOULD GATHER WEEKS TOO SOON
THEN GO HOME SAD
AND LATER LEARN
THE SHIP HAD BEEN IN DISTRESS


THEY'D STAY AWAY FOR A WHILE
THEN SHYLY
LIKE BIRDS RETURNING AFTER A NOISE
THEY WOULD COME BACK

THEY KNEW
THEIR HEARTS WERE SAILING BACK TO THEM

STAND UPON THE PROMENADE FOR ME
WATCH THE SUN OR MOON
MAKE GOLDEN PATHS FOR ME TO FOLLOW

I AM TIRED OF STORMS
MY HEAD IS ENTITLED TO REST
TO AN END OF SHADOWS
I WANT TO FIND SAFE HARBOR IN YOUR ARMS

COME TAKE ME IN YOUR ARMS AND SAY
YOUR JOURNEY'S DONE
DROP ANCHOR
YOU ARE HOME


FRANK A VOLLMER