Vessel
in their exquisite
irony / the gods
have set us forth
under press
of sail / hung
with living lines
awake to
every breath
of wind
in these vessels
which burn and shudder
and turn to ice and
resonate
with longing
upon
a spiritual
journey
in their exquisite
irony / the gods
have set us forth
under press
of sail / hung
with living lines
awake to
every breath
of wind
in these vessels
which burn and shudder
and turn to ice and
resonate
with longing
upon
a spiritual
journey