Deck Red

Loss, sadness

 

The hollow ache of having lost his crew

ate at the captain,

inside it brewed, and it stewed,

impatient,

he cocked his gun,

stared directly into the sun,

closed his eyes,

as the warmth caressed his face,

he rubbed his sweaty palm

on his chest,

finally, his mind was calm,

he placed the gun to his head,

hesitated momentarily,

as if walking on thin ice,

he wasn’t a hard-nose captain,

in fact, he was considered very nice,

shot rang out,

the flapping wings of sea birds were heard

but there was no shout,

deck red,

captain dead.