The sailor was no longer on the sea.
He lived on land.
He did not see the water, nor fish on it.

But at night, drifting into sleep,
His body rocked with the movements of waves.
His skin could feel the cold, salty air of the ocean.
Beneath his eyelids, he could see the stormy skies of the sea.

He was still a sailor.
And he always will be.
The sea was his love.
And always will be.