The tired eyes of a sojourner
in deepest soliloquy of dearest reminiscence
canvas skin… Weathered and brackish
yet the figures and figurines reflected in glassy pupils
betray the gravitas in the graveled voice
as if that was a night of provenance.
The once genteel-man forsaking finery
when his finest forsook him.
And if one should inquire, he shall respond:
“One muse took all I had to give,
one gave when I had naught
sincerest thanks to my kept woman
for betraying the trust of this dutiful sot.
I’d have ever caressed her hands
and held them ever as a treasure
but she forced my hand to ever weigh anchor
now ever the horizon is my only lover.”
And ever faithful he shall be
for sea brought him more joy than she.
Better a man live a life of leave
with enlivened heart ‘neath tattered sleeve.