The Drip Dry Sail
Where is the wind tonight?
I lie here idle on the sea
This flat sheet of blue holds me
anchored by a splay of stars
which cloaks the face of God
No tides pull, no whispers in the sails
The rocking hull sounds a bell
that ripples through the brackish night
and echoes back, ‘nothing there’
but walls of ancient silence
Distant seabirds fly in circles, as
all those lonely - that measure time
and cast their nets in empty pools,
to reap bare cloaks and silence:
A seabird dives knowing the
night only lasts until dawn
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