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The Drip Dry Sail


Where is the wind tonight?

I lie here idle on the sea

This flat sheet of blue holds me

anchored by a splay of stars

which cloaks the face of God

No tides pull, no whispers in the sails

The rocking hull sounds a bell

that ripples through the brackish night

and echoes back, ‘nothing there’

but walls of ancient silence

Distant seabirds fly in circles, as

all those lonely - that measure time

and cast their nets in empty pools,

to reap bare cloaks and silence:

A seabird dives knowing the

night only lasts until dawn

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