Wandering, you dip into a trough the size and shape
of a grounded sailboat, now a place to collect water.
Most do not put to sea a second time
in a boat that has seen disaster.
“Tis a good boat and a sound boat
but sell 'er." they say.
A boat in which one was lost will be left to rot like this
for the tide to carry, no use repairing the unlucky.
This one's bream needs to be scraped and burned.
Still...
Would be much to feel the tiller against your ribs again.
Main sheet tugging in hand
Both of you... Leaping! Bouncing!
And a silver wake rustling astern.
©️Mark W. Ó Brien 2022
No comments:
Post a Comment