Uninspired
You would have said the wind was made for you.
That sails were just to help the wind.
That all of it was just to make safe harbour seem
absurd for an imagination destined for
horizons somewhere far beyond
the uttermost extremities of space.
You who now are content with a calm
that even a turtle would shun.
Who stare out to sea through your window
and wonder what is the big deal.
You with the wine and fine cheeses. You
who wake and can't remember what the day was for.
Not depressed but just drifting.
Even steerageway is hard to manage.
You would blame it on age
but even that seems irrelevant.
Who really cares what happens in a dream?
And yet the fish has found the bleeding rose.
18 August 2022
Texas Jim
Prospect, Nova Scotia
www.granitecoast.ca