poem post #11

the boat we’re in

morning’s red sky
and
yonder
stands the shoreline
bleached
ragged
fog fingers
float in
to veil the view
a shark’s nose
thumps the gunwale
thunderheads
whitecaps
a crew of one
(a cross-eyed drunk)
a teaspoon
for the rowing
a notion
as our Northern Star

::


© 2009, Curt Alderson. All rights reserved in accordance with the Berne Convention for the Protection of Literary and Artistic Works.