Windup My Sail Poem by Mark Heathcote

Windup my sail
Like falling, leaves.
Windup these pirate tales
What no one else believes?

Oh, quartermaster—
Mistress of the high seas
Beat your drum
Let these oarsmen
Stroke each falling wave
Once and again
Where nothings are nearly
Quite begun or ended
Or recovered

With each rolling day
Sirens sacrifice
Tossed up into
The foaming waves of what's
Dew-dropped into thee
Into me, still unknown?

Oh, catch that thunder
In the harbour in the rain
Like linen
Touch the healing
In the lightning
Craped ripped breath

In the sunlight
Of your soul
Like a dove
With an olive leaf
Returning home
To a king of the truly wise
Wind up my sail
Tonight I drowned
At these oars
For the light!