May I speak to myself now as to that
Astrayéd spouse whose anguished, homesick heart
Crashed ‘gainst his visage artful and complex
As ruthless curls of the Ogygian blue
Beat down upon the crags, with salty mist
Commingling with his every bygone tear.
Poor vagabond, is that the marriage left
To you? I urge you, get you up, and go—
Return to your dear Ithaca, who, sat
Before the loom, weaves divers shrouds of Love. Luke Briner was raised in New York and is currently a Senior at St. John's College, Annapolis. He hopes to pursue a career in philosophy and writing after graduating.