written by: Joseph J. Breunig 3rd
We launched from Cape Elizabeth,
into the Atlantic’s brackish blue;
tiny white caps were subtly swept
away by the magic of ocean waves;
beneath us, marine secrets kept
eyes of daytime, casual observers
gazing downward for signs of life.
We tasted its saltiness, as salinity
rates migrated upward and downward;
on this bright day, the visibility
across the seawater seemed endless.
Some sailboats scrambled for position.
Imaginations soared high as clouds
and spirits sought unspoken freedom,
away from craziness of street crowds.
The horns sounded and the race began;
for thirty minutes, our sloop raced
ahead of the others, until dead air
deflated sails and diminished egos;
lunch was announced and no one cared
as remaining vessels embarked quietly
towards an imaginary, finish line;
on that day, there were no dolphins,
sharks or whales to console our loss.
So we dined, at the captain’s chagrin.
© 2016, All rights reserved.