A little tattered
Broken

A little shaken
Shattered

A little scattered
Rattled  

But a little fixed
Mended

A little patched
Stitched

With gum and glue
Old and new
Needles and pins
Tonic and gin

Up and down
Round and round  

I soared
I dived
I survived

With hope
Though a little weary
With a smile
though part numb —
I wait
wondering what’s to come

Approaching low these frothy ancient walls
this wooden haul goes groan in hesitation
plays sunken sounds abaft of sodden planks
against wet, wind whipped sheets, slippery rope

Pilot eyes a narrow channel to this coffin's drift
a wheel in fate's hand, spun for all hands deck
one cold sea surge, after another, vaults over
sailor's gritting teeth with sea tears on pale cheeks

Fathoms drowned, as currents swell in rhythmic dance
Davy Jones awaits for those to decompose by chance
a gold doblón, a flipped up sueño, when maelstrom ends
drifting in lines of seaweed lime, or port of heart's content


-cec

You sent me a photo of your legs
resting on beach white sand
as though this was enough of you

In the distance was the Gulf expanse
womb to hurricanes and lost ships
beckoning soulful sailors to their fate

In salty heart and mind, fortunes for love
waterspout hours of landed musing
those appendages of family and anchorage

Longing for the rest of you, sun burns
bottled hopes float endlessly adrft
each lap and wave in an ocean of desire

-cec