Onboard a band of blue Bermuda latitude
Some sapphire map of liquid globe that rolls
Where wash machine confusion waves unfold
The ship a hammock o're this watery tomb

1000 white capped crashes surface wreck
But swell my limpet heart like seaweed blooms
The sky is overcast in concrete hues
And only those with courage go on deck

Under my palms the varnished railing sweats
A kiss of mist blown spray from open sea
Strange urge to jump and tack life's helm alee
And merge our shaking breaths in a duet

Written by Sara Fielder © Dec 2015

How would you have known I inherited my nomad heart
from faded photographs of my father at large on some
adventure march with overloaded off the road camel modes
of transportation and that I stayed up for days at the
salt encrusted tiller of tranquility in an empty sea for privacy
away from all the endeavors community demands and oh,
how crisp the stars are in three dimensions of nowhere and
there you are! There you are, I say, wearing the hair you
haven’t brushed in a week with a can of Vienna sausages
to fill up your empty belly before sheer terror overtakes you

Written by Sara Fielder © Sept 2015