Wednesday, July 04, 2012
Stormy Seas -- David Johnson
Gail force winds provide sails
with tension and thrust
to push the vessel through.
Sails to hum and shake
like the whip of cloth layed out on a bed of angry sea.
Sails like the flap of prehistoric wings sounding on stormy oceans stark,
sounding in the sky of depth and dark.
The sky of no end.
The wishing well in which no coin has fallen
and no wish ever made.
No gull has dipped in a wing and split the rush of wind
with feathers smooth, confident and true.
The waves volley the wooden frame as it whimpers in the dark
and nails in the haul stress and cling tight to twisting wood.
The Crew prays the day will whisper in more gentler winds.