Jul 23, 2019
1 min read
Man at Sea
A Year of Sonnets #85
Perhaps you are the smile in the stone,
a witchlight brought to kindle memory
when I have set my anchor, sunk alone
into the storm of things never to be.
Accustomed to this wilderness of brine
and all the lonely music in its hands,
I wear away to salt and carbon, fine,
another story lost to hostile sands.
