Wednesday, October 23, 2013

You who say
life is your own,
know you not my hull, my keel, who is captain.
My sail catches wind
swells to bloated
but every scrap of snapping canvas
listens not to my rising wail
Should I haul wheel port or starboard,
the waves think otherwise
and other winds than mine govern,
unseen crews man the masts
Can I tell you a tale of unexpected landfall?
Of barbarous waves?
Let me show you sunsets of
Gold and tarnished brass.

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