March 11, 2015

I sailed through the desert a while back
in a blue ketch that I named Anna Jean.
She moved so gracefully through the sands
Like a water bug darting to and fro on a stream
The sails where made of the finest cloth
The riggings, the lines, tightly braided, with nary a fray.
Her sails billowed, she moved so fast
The grains of sand against her hull, sliced away.
I skated one summer upon the sea,
With boots of leather and blades made of steel
In unison, and balanced, my arms and my legs,
The wind in my face, Oh to feel, to feel!
My shiny blades, scratching on a gleaming froth
Speeding toward a destination, a horizon unknown.
Seeing fish, some whales, a dolphin or two
On my way through this blue-green meadow, on my own.
I have the life I am living now.
It fills me with a great solitude.
No drama envelopes me as I moved
Forward from within, practicing fortitude.
If boredom sets in, as it sometimes does
I dream up adventures, alive in my head.
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