Archive
09/01/09
Maiden Voyage
A heady beginning of September's mistral winds Whispers across this restaurant's patio And riffles the rigging high in its ten pear-tree masts, Coursing through my fleece jacket, chilling my bones, Reminding me of my fragility, that winter's entering this clime.
Yet I revel in this breezy ecstasy, Realizing my time outdoors is circumscribed, ephemeral — Just a matter of measured verses, Lines laid down in the shifting seas of ruled notebook pages My caravel-imagination navigates and plies.
How I got here, a skeleton crew of one, aboard this ghost ship, I'll doubtless never know, and it hardly matters, anyway, As I travel with Captain Gulliver and first mate Darwin, Running, under full sheets, for Lilliput, Laputa, Blefuscu, Lagado, Mauritius, the Galápagos, Azores, and Falklands.
For the duration of this inspired maiden voyage, I might just decide to keep home port forever off starboard, On the other side of the horizon, out of sight, Not ever return, rather let my pen's inky waters lap my bow, Transport me toward the shores of life's unexplored territories.
09/01/09
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