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...