Arguing with the boatman
She argued with the boatman: Not return -
I'm going, just going. "That's all there is.
No single. You might come back, in the spring."
You know that isn't possible, she said.
It is one way. It's so good over there -
That's what I've heard - there's never been a complaint.
"There's other reasons," he muttered. "Questions;
and strength making difficulty and entanglements; complications.
It's in the small things you don't want to hear.
They disrupt your rhythm with newfangleness;
and with awe. Over the murderous rough water,
if you survive the journey, not all do,
nothing you know now will mean what it means
as it has done; not our language itself.
Do you want to travel? It costs four pounds.
If you can get back, you may. It's open.
I can't stay here; she said; I have no choice.
He growled: "All right! It's four pounds, or in kind."
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