Friday, February 10, 2012


We had the run of the land that day
Either man nor nature could make you welcome
All wires sang an eerie howl
the rain ran down the glass all day
The horizon black
The tips of the waves white
The anchor watched with vigilance
Small tasks were executed round the boat
the rigging taut and holding
Like a nation on fire, we waited it out
Like a bird on the wire
we hung on tight
The wind kept us devout
and full of respect
the kind that turns boys into men
and you make friends
like you'll be back again

No comments:

Post a Comment