The Captain Poem by Goddo Faggotte
The Captain
Our ‘children-arms’ rowed the wooden skiff,
out over the cool dark water.
Our stump-footed grandfather,
astern at the tiller
oars in rollocks we listened to
his soft strong voice
cuff-rolled shirt, honest grey flannels.
He was the Captain of our
Adventurous Hearts.
The watery wedding party watched
with crystal eyes, burnt-orange bills,
silently sifting the silky silt of the lagoon,
effortless.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/26/2024 8:33:38 PM # 1.0.0.1119
