“Tree Fog” By Louise McCarthy

Leave a comment

 

It’s a tall sailing-ship on the ocean, 

Still, anchored, waiting – not to be broken – 

Or smashed on rocks – run aground.

A grey shape, visible in the fog – no sound.

Or, imaginably, if I listen closely – beyond the hush – 

Seawater claps the vessel’s hull and waves swoosh on the shore.

Sensible sea captain, dutiful crew, waits – no rush…

The sun is sinking, a gull calls, and the reef makes no score.

Explorers or pirates?  We’ll see…

I write in my log book – a note to me – 

“Tomorrow – build lighthouse for sea dogs.”

But in the morning there is no sea, no ship, and no fog.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s