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  • By David B. Gosselin

The Man Who Never Cries

Bacchus - Caravaggio (1595)

The man who never cries is like the ship

That never sailed or left the sleepy shores,

Who’s never felt the waves of peril whip

Against his keel, far off from peaceful shoals.

Fearing the unrelenting ocean's guile

—The treasures claimed by wet tempestuousness—

A denizen upon Calypso's isle,

He lies on shores of voluptuousness.

When gazing from his tearless strand, he sees

In twirling clouds the faces he so loves;

He thinks of worlds across the salted seas,

Then looks to the lingering host above:

His dry eyes become the cruelest prison

As each cloud fades into the horizon.

David B. Gosselin is a poet, writer, and translator based in Montreal. He is the founder of The Chained Muse and New Lyre. His first collection of poems is entitled Modern Dreams.

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