In conversation with the spirit of death
Not far off will be my test
Where I will speak out shibboleth!
With hands of callous
My weather beaten face
Outer appearance is of no concern
My companion for the day asks no questions
Or takes notice of the waters which churn
His presence does not irk me
In this life of complicated arbor
Its latticework intrigues me
As we ponder in the quiet harbor
Thankfully only I can see
The spirit which sits by my side
It offers no assistance in my task
My sails fill in good stride
Each day is a thankful day
To live and sail upon the sea
Whatever is ahead will come
Regardless of my plea
~Moses~
© 2009 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
2 comments:
love to see your work...
simple n sweat
superstitions at sea
were death is always present
your poem sends shivers
this cold black spring day
waves pounding at the wharf
as we get ready
for the season.
great work Moses.
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