Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2021
Older by a few years, this mast
and compass marked by my past nightmares
and odysseys. Lost and faded into the deep folds
of seafoam, my bitter and sweet
reminder of how to take care
of steering wheels, and sailing cloths flapping
in the wind. Ropes tightened in the high noon
sun, a Sailor's eyes and ears
on a far horizon.
Krysel Anson
Written by
Krysel Anson
Please log in to view and add comments on poems