Seasoned

We met full sail as summer swelled

and  we ran free

beneath borealis skies,

sun-kissed.

 

September’s sweet caress

coaxed us to sway in the starlight

as summer’s leaves shed

their emerald hue

 

splattering crimson

across our craft

brittle and thin as our words:

How’s work? How’s your mom? Did you feed the dogs?

 

Frost snaked aft and fore

across line and deck,

fine-webbed, rudder

shuddering in the thickening bay,

 

as we rolled, crested, creaked,

rolled, listed, lashed –

All hands on deck!

crashing through the icy bay,

 

boatswain lost in the fray.

Listing, righting, drifting,

two battered mates

keening for shore,

 

knot frayed, straining,

each with a splintered oar,

as spring’s tender kiss

dripped through the cabin door.