SYCHOANALYSIS

No matter how total the shipwreck,
His hands still fasten planks to the deck--
Someone will walk across it to the beam.
He keeps bobbing back,
Like Moses on a stream.

What matter the crazy moon above,
The stormy waves, the wind, the calm,
How young the skipper, or how old,
The baby's back,
Laughing in the hold.

--Howard Moss

(1922-1987)