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Afternoon Sail MAG
As we shoot across
The glimmering plain
With jib taut as steel
And hauled-in main,
I watch the horizon wobble,
Shaken by swells of pure
Cobalt, littered with stars
That swim in pools of azure.
And then, in a cloudburst of spume,
We tack into a quilt of sapphires,
And the setting sun throws
Streaks of flaring wildfire
Across our course.
The sky turns deep blue, cold,
And the moon graphs our course ,
As it did the mariners' of old.
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