and then...

the night, the fog, the silence

no wind, no sleep, nomad, saudade

the wail, the calms, no crux, no flux

No north, no wake

the same

the same

Passiflora patterned pale lace sail

leeward, in irons

sapphire silence

The Dawn slowed in through the shades

sunk in bed, no sight of land

and then...

to rise, pick up the thread

and weave away

redo

redo

all the weight of a sunken sea

all the weight on all you could have been

all you weave will pull you through the windlessness

though that might not seem like here and now

it might end someday...