Let me tell you how it went, Skipper,
that day we came to the first of the islands;
our barge struck a coral reef about 1500 yards offshore.
We sat high and dry in the shallow waters.
We could see a black sand beach and a twisting path
snaking up a rock strewn hill nearest the beach.
Chief ran down the flag flying from the main mast
and folded it so that he could tuck it in his shirt.
'Looks like a typhoon passed through here a while back, ' Casey said, pointing to the barrels and casks floating alongside. An acrid smell of diesel oil mixed with the pungent odor of shredded palmetto hung in the warm still air.
'Let's get ashore before we lose what's left of this light, ' I said. I jumped from the barge into the dark green water and beckoned to them to follow my lead as I sloshed through knee-deep water toward the beach.
Michael, I've read one or two of your comments on other poems ahd have found them both edifying, sonorous, lively and deep - teaching me a thing or two about poetry to which I'm a new comer. This poem shows who you are, or rather, who I think you are - let's get ashore before we lose what's left of this light' and you beckoned on others to follow ytour lead. Yes, I think that's what you do best - with love in your heart you lead others believing you're on the right track. That was the report to the captain. Or, am I wrong!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Could be Conrad at work - Victory or Chance! Not a whiff of Polonius on this page though! jim