Treasure Island

john clinock

(Bristol, UK)

Sailing


through time
we point our proud bow
to the open sea.
Warm winds swell the canvas
painted with shadows of gulls.
Our ship is beautiful,
it skims the green waves
a dragonfly by day
a firefly by night.
We loosen the ropes and tighten them,
consult the compass,
and sometimes believe
that we have traced a route through the deep.
But the ocean has embraced us
and maps its own desires,
and we can only laugh and kiss
and dance our feet in the luminous wake.

Submitted: Friday, September 20, 2013
Edited: Friday, September 20, 2013
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