Captain Became an Introspective Voyager

The meaning of my life folds against

The lazy sea, the bluest color towards purple

The barque of sulfer and phosphor

 

White moonlight shifting the darkness of surf

The meaning of it all dabbles with yellow pollen

Greenest grass, pacific swell, maritime fragrance

 

Handkerchief of the Rockies, grieving of the plains

I am the geography of a species

The template that pierces life

 

Always attempting to prolong creation

To immortalize hunger, to organize hope

The pink stars of drunkards, poets, widows

 

Single mothers like fugitive phantoms

Abundantly beautiful with the weight

Of the new world that tranquilizes us

 

With her same wigs, her fine touches of doubt

The inscrutable beginnings of a drab world.

Reviews

[Marie]

Beautifully painted seascape...

[Prolific In Verse]

We are all indeed at sea, with self, other and what we may term God. It's too late in the voyage we realize these 3 things are the same stuff.