Apnea: The Wake Sleeps

By Peter Halstead

Ay, many flowering islands lie
In the waters of wide Agony...
          —from “Lines Written among the Euganean Hills”
                           by Percy Bysshe Shelley

Isles of wide-eyed bowers
Heap mists and tides on me,
And flights of reefing powers
Sweep the strake,
But sleep flown floundering
From oceans of debris
Keeps me from the landing’s
Brilliant wake.