Sailing

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 a retired manager living in Southern Maine and a would be writer of poetry, narratives, short stories, and random opinions, and that's how Oldmainer was born. Recently, I decided to try an experiment. I added photography to the mix, using only a cheap cell phone with a limited camera and the editing software that came with it, and added the blog site Inklings at poormanspoet.wordpress.com to showcase the results. So, feel free to use whatever you find interesting or worthy, but please honor the terms of my copyright when and if you do. They may not be much, but they are still a piece of me. I appreciate your checking me out and hope that you find something that will encourage a return visit. Thanks for stopping by.
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