Storm Day, Stuck on the Boat!
Storm day!
The wind is like a circling, fierce wolf.
White caps tip the bay like a Chinese army in a fog.
My neighbor’s dinghy has nearly become forfeit to the sea.
Faith rides like a see-saw (sp?)
Yours truly quelled the temptation to expose, then pile the generator beneath outdoor pillows.
Its a querrellous, primal day.
On the boat.
Meditate your way to me, Daedalus.
Tags: boat, bullets in a burning box, fog, generator, industrial rock, liveaboard, musician, nathanael matthias weiss, poem, poetry, sailboat, sailor, storm, wave, white caps, wind, wolf. This entry was posted
on Monday, December 15th, 2008 at 11:06 am and is filed under Vagabonding.
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