Another lonely night in a lowly cabin,
Eyes waxen in the candlelight –
Overlooking charts and plotting.
Thinning hair combed back toward a weathered neck, itself
Reaching from a white collar
Heavily patterned with salt and faded lipstick.
A wife and children left behind –
Two buoys, bobbing,
Eager of his return…
But!
Another woman’s current;
She, in a blue-green dress, floating in dance
Him, racing over her
Dreams carried on the whispering wind
Filling welcoming sails, taken as a tonic
A towering Spinnaker, up and yonder;
Distant
There is little time to think big of much else,
Is the company of the sea enough to an Island?
A.T.
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