in stormy weather
the boat leans heavy
on her keel
her long and weary timbers touch
one wish
with worthy second thoughts
for foghorn wails and sailors knots!
i tremble at the wheel
when shrouds of mist are left suspended
in trust of the sun,
magnanimous ball,
to burn its incorruptible
splendid
and let the rose and compass fall
when warming rueful ruddy rocks
succeed in breaking through,
one lonely step on sand is sacred
one grain of dirt is chiseled true
while all hands on the deck arena
dance to a candlelit concertina
those calloused fingers torn on rope,
still squeeze the bellows n shape the wind
as fierce waves somewhere still may crest
from under earths eternal spin
