Sunday, June 3, 2012

Son of a sailor




I really am the song of a sailor
My father living his life
Out of every port
Finding it easy to ship out
When my mother
Gave birth to me.
Maybe that’s why
I’m never too
Comfortable at sea
Never able
To get my sea legs
Sustain my balance
Always scared
I might drown
But I keep throwing
Ropes out to those
I see,
That mass of humanity
Floating in the water
Around me,
All with their voices raised
All going down
For the third time,
Sometimes I get
My lines crossed
Sometimes I almost
Get dragged in with them
Sometimes, I make
Like my father and flee
Before I get sucked
Into the water, too,
Going down
For the third time
With no one left
On the boat
To toss out a line
To save me.


email to Al Sullivan

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