Intimate Relationship

Intimate Relationship Saw the rusty old tramp-ship on the glittering blues sea mowing cumbersome eastward. My god, I knew her, more than many, had spent two years in her hot interior and long nights listening to her reassuring heart beats. When sea was rough she rode the waves like a swan, shuddered sometimes as to get sea off her deck. Here she was again, under alien flag, disappearing slowly as a dream remembered. Wondered if she was on her way to Caribbean? She liked it there, warm water good for her hull. And like me she knew every little port, she could birth blindfolded. Glad to see her again, yet sad feel as I betrayed her for leaving; pitiable she, not anchored in the inlet of peace by now.