Giorgio Veneto (Athens, Greece)

Define me in a spark of light and mind;
A misty voice I heard when horns signaled;
The Ship heeled to the right and stayed inclined
Iced's the Archipelago of Finland.

The lighthouse of Henry LePaute was close;
Valassaaret turned grayish in dusk;
The length of day was seven hours, sea froze,
ship's log of January, twenty first.

You tried to define me in this grayish,
Devoid dusk solitude of winter ice,
Maybe you were with our friends in Athens,
The fresh aroma of cafe would suffice.

We wait for the tugboat lights to appear,
Recall you as a student at Penn State,
The blue-white banner on wall and guitar,
In Eastview Terrace dorm was our first date.

The sea of Kvarken in winter's frozen,
Breeze of Black Pines descends the isles' shores;
Vertical slopes elevate from ocean,
And all this nothingness of ice, abhors.

The Ship's side turned to the tide and the bilge,
Has risen unproportional from brines,
And now she rides athwart on white vast fields,
Cold's numbness causes sleep close to rock shrines.

The red light of the tug blinks in distance,
Approaches slow; the ice on Captain's brows,
Makes me wonder of this snow's contrivance,
Will guide us where Sea's Master Death endows.

Define me in a spark of light and mind;
A misty voice I heard when horns signaled;
The Ship heeled to the right and stayed inclined
Iced's the Archipelago of Finland.