Rock of water, bone and cockle,
though sallow-cheeked and dappled,
your bow still stands in sand and sea.
Here lies your final anchor
your keel left creaking in the wind
Chrome and slip-stripped,
your turquoise sulking hull echo
the love-and-hate cries of your captain.
Dank and splintered,
teak planks form a fallow deck -
your mast a withering tree.
Fish wrought nets and brine bleached lines
tell of your faena with the sea.
You reflect the water,
her frayed nap upon your breath,
each wave painting
your brackish body.
In mustard sky you look stranded
Even still, you sink deeper, deeper.
Published in Harvard Scriptorium.