First Mate
Written: by Tom Wright
February 2015
At day blink, a first mate scarcely notices,
That fume’s of time has begun to devour his day,
He has a gentle wind in his sails and suddenly,
Eventide has enveloped him, with calmness;
With undeviating stealth, at twelve bells, arrives tomorrow;
An open harbor that not all will be favored to sail into,
And those with entry pass will leave forever in their wake,
Things cast overboard that can ne’er be reclaimed or altered.
Copyright © Tom Wright | Year Posted 2015
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