Never So Free - Bruce Cockburn

    wind across the quay-side
    grit in my eyes and fish in my nose
    white as whalebone, wheeling seagulls cry

    outside the bar in the high-street
    blind fingers spin an accordeon reel
    shoes and sedan wheels grudgingly keeping time

    fishing boat stretched out at low tide
    dog and a black man work on the deck
    bright as a bottle, sunlight skips wave to wave

    part of a map of somewhere
    teases my foot like a haunting dream
    never so free, i'm lost in the seagulls' flight

    (Sheffield, Eng. -- 6/7/73)


    Marco Giunco
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