Sea Tale

Vintage Words


I took to the sea
unable to walk on
dry land longer. My boots
craved a distant horizon.

My eyes needed seascapes

and lightning streaks

from blustery dark cloud.

I went out to see what was

on the oceans learning to climb
sails like clouds. From there

the earth is mine and the sea
belongs to the sea.
I returned from adventures

and dangers unable to remember
what it was like to walk on

unmoving landscapes.


Seas eventually have shorelines,
on approaches or in rearward
last glances. I have seen both

and wept. Water and saline 
is the seaman's best blend. 
Tween decks the foul air
is still and sweat adds
to the aroma of swinging
bodies dreaming of home.
Topside, the deck is walking
on the bottom of the watch's
sea boots. High wind rips
the sails into canvas thunder.
Aye and be damned, the sky
is painted ten shades of

foreboding, but home for me

is there.


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