Odysseus

Dawn breaks through the window of
My eyes and neurons, and my pen
Can barely hold the furious shove
Of light’s invaders, fierce like men.
I add another to the suns
In my portfolio of sky,
It’s my CV, my plumes and guns,
Like a cathedral from the sty.
It is a race between my breath
And the tender song of bards
To first touch war, sea, sunset, death,
In foreign countries, and write cards
That paint their justice to the core
For those who live beside the shore.