Blinded by the sheen of the shade in the quay
old man on a curio yacht
the note of his baritone call reaching far but
falling far short of its goal:
you.
Mouth of sagging gums, gamey muscle
wailing to the nominal none
eyes of coal saw through water
wake sending codes to
you.
Wide nose poring over solemn cooler
mashing chum onto tackle
maritime armistice to cower behind
pole dipping, yo-yoing for
you.
He has a need to keen, chords guiding him
into cold dark sea
until just a dot set against indigo void
adrift until he forgets
you.
No comments:
Post a Comment