The low wind howled
against the creaking
&
moaning of ships.

Dark clouds blotted out
all hopeful rays of the sun.

Small drops of water blotted
chestnut colored planks

Fraying aged ropes wet with sea mist
tug and pull taught
as vessels heave up and down.

Sails shake tirelessly
in the careless throws
of the wind.

Her words, like sweet drops of wine,
fall softly from her saddened lips.

"Must you go?
Must you brave the angered seas?
Must you set out once more,
this final time?"

Though sweet was her voice,
her words filled with grief
held a gravity to them.
He did not wish to leave.

Seeing her tear stricken face
He softly ran his fingers
through her heavy auburn hair.

A final embrace
and a solemn goodbye
The Mariner kissed his wife.