08-20-2015, 12:25 AM
Through the salt-cracked, creaking boards,
sea seethes below.
Round the storm-scoured, rust-crust rails
wild west winds blow.
On the tight-turned switch-back swell
a skewed skiff slides,
disappearing in the troughs
of tearing tides.
In the dim of dying day
a clay cloud cleaves.
Sunlight side-slips through the grey;
dread darkness leaves.
On the pier the public peers
to scan the scene.
No one is there, the ocean bare;
he was last seen….
tectak2015
Lingua in maxillam
sea seethes below.
Round the storm-scoured, rust-crust rails
wild west winds blow.
On the tight-turned switch-back swell
a skewed skiff slides,
disappearing in the troughs
of tearing tides.
In the dim of dying day
a clay cloud cleaves.
Sunlight side-slips through the grey;
dread darkness leaves.
On the pier the public peers
to scan the scene.
No one is there, the ocean bare;
he was last seen….
tectak2015
Lingua in maxillam