On a Ship To Endpoint Isle

I am sailing on a ship to Endpoint Isle The waves are fierce very high Blown by a wind has flecked and scarred the deck With folds like dried old skin A gull plummets down then up Thrust sky-high alike a crumpled page of yesterday's news I've dizzy-staggered to the cabin where stands our captain All in white his face testament to completion I would be put ashore and this request on tongue-tip But somehow all is as should be I stand at last resigned Watch the roiling sea The journey now seems endless with little let-up Save moments when the waves beat back upon themselves And when the salt air stings I know that I am still alive