Doldrums.
Windless expanses amidst endless seas of dream.
My mind’s ship drifts aimlessly,
Rocking atop the waves of steadfast breathing.
A rogue,
Tossing and turning in uneven slumber.
With signs of frost,
Bundling to shield Jack’s silent attack from asunder.
The skies open in drenching flood,
Merely a product of fearsome nightmares.
Gulls soaring with branches of plucked after-thought,
Signs of peace in uncertain, wondrous night-terrors.
Reef points lapping against thick canvas sails,
What an odd melodic tone sharp exhalation can create.
Now the sun is setting beneath amber-teak and chrome rails,
Dreams from afar does my life, once again, infiltrate.
Where is the wind?
Where is my soul?
Will I ever see anything but this sea without boundary?
Or merely these doldrums in the cold?
