Rock-A-By My Ship

Rock-a-by my ship, its merchandise, wandering wardrobe, my love and I — to islands of paradise, short cliffs of happiness, sea water caves. I jump precariously — carelessly, my turn. I don’t twist an ankle like the lady without her shoes. Favored am I, this time and the next and next and next. Alas the sea still calls my name but I’m shore-dry, inland claustrophobiside. My arms open wide wanting to swallow the ocean tides, sink into pink and tan sandy pits, harbors with their tropical sips. Rock-a-by my ship, wait for me. I’ll sail with thee, my wandering wardrobe and my love eclipsed by the seagull sun and reggae moon, clip-clop not with a wooden leg but heavenly heels, slip sliding, swaying; surrendering senses to salt, bossy breezes, xanthous rays of caress. 11/27/2020