Migrant breezes trip past
My skipping craft
Captured only briefly
By unfurled sails

Waves rhythmically
Attack a determined bow
Fists of foam clutch at
A passive hull

The perfume of the sea
Permeates my senses
Gulls circle, scolding
Protesting my presence

Briny spray caresses me
Drawing me ever more closely
To the essence of the sea
Joining us as one

I am alive, I am free
I own the horizon
For these few treasured moments
I hold solitude in my hand



About oldmainer

I am retired and live in southern Maine with my wife and two dogs. I started Oldmainer as an outlet for my occasional opinions and random observations, with some poetry thrown in. I welcome anyone that wants to kick back and join me here on the porch, exploring all the gifts we have been given and the memories collected. Thanks for stopping by.
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