Thursday, July 30, 2015

Sea Dreams


I gnawed at the line
Attempting to get it loose
From the cleat and let
The mainsail go.
My rigging knife had
Gone in the last gust
Along with the mast

Held now by just this line.
The mainsail was in the sea
Filling, pulling me down.
I darted below and grabbed
The old boarding axe, held
On the cabin bulkhead
As decoration, used

Perhaps during chancier
Times than this.  I hacked
The line loose with a single
Swing and watched it snake
Over the side after the main
Sail and mast, with the hope
I had of a speedy trip.

Using an oar, I rigged the
Jib with as much wind as
It would take.  I was miles
From my destination
With no means of calling
For aid.  The wind lessened
On the next day.  I was

Able to get into dry clothes
And eat something from my
Dwindling store.  I looked
In the sea and set out a
Line.  I’d need something
More if I would survive.
The sea buffeted me from the

North West.  I kept my compass
Heading with difficulty but also
Care fearing I’d miss the
Island and sail on forever
Or as near as I would come.
After the storm, the sea was
Left to calm itself.  The wind

Died and the boat rocked in
A hot sun.  I hooked a big
Eyed Scad in the night and
Then another, but lacked the
Will to cook.  I rigged the
Storm jib as an awning not
Wishing to go below, for

Unless the seas are heavy
It is best up here waiting
For a breeze, hoping to make
Some seaway, and dreaming;
For all that can be done
Has been.  I can wait,
Watch the clouds and

Look for rain,
However long it takes,
Care for all
I’ve held here   
And in the end
Hope for whatever
Lies beyond.

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