Hi John,
Sorry to have taken so long to get to this. I've come back to it a few times trying to work out what wasn't quite working for me, despite my liking the individual parts. I particularly like the close: the N turning to dust again, bull with matador's irons, the cape made of ice and wind.
I think there's maybe a bit too much preamble here. Do you need the first two sentences? They're largely covered by "The journeys have ended", and losing them reduces some of the repetition in the poem, which as it stands has four "journeys" and one "wandered".
You could start from "The journeys have ended. Now I wait". I'd say that maybe makes for a better start. More in media res. And seems to largely cover what precedes. It tells us that there are no more journeys or wanderings.
The journeys have ended. Now I wait. No ship in sight. No wooden-wheeled carts loaded with dead corsairs pass by. How did so much end with nothing to say? Nothing to present? On each of my journeys, I was instructed to remember how time is collected—there is no end to the ways to divide and collect what cannot be held. When the end refused to present itself I turned to dust again. The empty journeys I took up and down the globe are gone. No circumference was discovered. I wait and dream I am a bull with a matador's irons—a cape made of ice and wind.
Or maybe start with "The journeys have ended" and insert "All I saw fell dead before me. Dead like old wood on a beach." before "Now I wait" -- since the beach ties in well with the ship. Which would give this:
The journeys have ended. All I saw fell dead before me. Dead like old wood on a beach. Now I wait. No ship in sight. No wooden-wheeled carts loaded with dead corsairs pass by. How did so much end with nothing to say? Nothing to present? On each of my journeys, I was instructed to remember how time is collected—there is no end to the ways to divide and collect what cannot be held. When the end refused to present itself I turned to dust again. The empty journeys I took up and down the globe are gone. No circumference was discovered. I wait and dream I am a bull with a matador's irons—a cape made of ice and wind.
best,
Matt
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