100 Days


The curling waves

gently rock

the broken boat

some sweet lullaby

perused by you

sung soft and clinging

to my sundered shirt sleeve

bloodstained and browbeaten

over splinter-red hands.

Oh, but he put up a fight

and laughed

and danced a manic jig

over grandiose and epic tales

that lead down many winding paths

but always to the same nowhere

and here

and now

in the salt sea stung tough

perhaps I can learn

to let him cry

and sob

and wail

turning away my battered hands

from comforts touch

to trade the boy

to embrace the sea

all her mystery

as I sit simply

and watch the boat sail away

for a hundred more days.


2 thoughts on “100 Days

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s