Framed Voyage

Once, upon a precisely uncertain time,
    We tirelessly sketched our dreams upon the sky.
         But the stars ensnared them in their invisible web
                 and Anchored all in unreachable depths, loudly unsaid.

That horizon of panoramic promises offered
     Us a broken tour on the edges of imagination unheard.
           Waves of foamy hope gathered in castles that pooled
                 in Aging Trunks, found in dark creases of elevating longitude.

So we cast off, bobbing among the white lapse
      Our colors billowing in torn & salt-kissed maps.
            Cruising the sketching currents, their directions grown old--
              the Compass not always blooming, more Retired than Rose.
          
The destination pools us within four corners while
      its navigation angles cold calculations, ponderously archival.
             Not lapping at any hint depth, never finding a rising tide--
                   and Trapping us beneath glinting memories when the sun hits right.