The boat ploughed on. Now Alcatraz was past <br />And all the grey waves flamed to red again <br />At the dead sun's last glimmer. Far and vast <br />The Sausalito lights burned suddenly <br />In little dots and clumps, as if a pen <br />Had scrawled vague lines of gold across the hills; <br />The sky was like a cup some rare wine fills, <br />And stars came as he watched <br />- and he was free <br />One splendid instant - back in the great room, <br />Curled in a chair with all of them beside <br />And the whole world a rush of happy voices, <br />With laughter beating in a clamorous tide. . . . <br />Saw once again the heat of harvest fume <br />Up to the empty sky in threads like glass, <br />And ran, and was a part of what rejoices <br />In thunderous nights of rain; lay in the grass <br />Sun-baked and tired, looking through a maze <br />Of tiny stems into a new green world; <br />Once more knew eves of perfume, days ablaze <br />With clear, dry heat on the brown, rolling fields; <br />Shuddered with fearful ecstasy in bed <br />Over a book of knights and bloody shields . . . <br />The ship slowed, jarred and stopped. There, straight ahead, <br />Were dock and fellows. Stumbling, he was whirled <br />Out and away to meet them - and his back <br />Slumped to the old half-cringe, his hands fell slack; <br />A big boy's arm went round him - and a twist <br />Sent shattering pain along his tortured wrist, <br />As a voice cried, a bloated voice and fat, <br />'Why it's Miss Nancy! Come along, you rat!'<br /><br />Stephen Vincent Benet<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/going-back-to-school-3/
