Old Ship
I feel like an old ship
Anchored in the bay,
Too old and slow
To battle storms
Or haul the freight
That pays the way.
I’ve had my turns
On stormy seas
And danced on waves
That threatened me.
I’ve spent my time
On misty isles
And slept with strangers
In lonely ports.
I’ve heard the songs
That nature sings
And drunk the wine
Of slower times.
. . . Now . . .
The journey’s over
The mellow, harbor lights
Of yesterday
Are gone.
I’m anchored in the bay
And people come to see
This old ship
Whose memories hang,
Like shrouds of rope,
Down from the mast.
And, younger ships have come
To take my place upon the sea.
Written while visiting the ship, "Star of India," in San Diego
Copyright © William Crocker | Year Posted 2011
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