*a sharpie is a type of sailboat from new haven
Turning from the port,
I said “My,” to the slim
stiletto hull swaying
in the harbor. “Oh smooth
watercraft,” I said.
The waves rippled
in satisfaction and said,
“What a line her body
makes, how smooth
the underside of her frame.”
The shellfish breathed
a familiar song
to the mossy crags,
so I said,
“Oh dusky
harbor with grass growing
up from the sand, tell me
what the lapping waters
speak of.”
The sharpie dropped
her sail from the mast
and I said,
“Oh lithe vessel.”
She swayed and we fell
into the choppy waters
and when the shellfish
had ceased singing
and the sun was softly glowing,
I said,
“The Sound
tonight noiseless seems
to be the nothing that lays
beyond the lands.”
My hair floated in the wind
and I have never seen
a horizon as beautiful
since, sun dipping down
to the endless waters.
Her deck touched my feet
so I said,
“Smooth vessel,”
and the wind whipped
the words from my mouth;
And I cast about in
the growing dark for signs
of onlookers as the algae
eyed the grasses ashore
from the safety of the swelling waves.
