In panic’s metered dirge,
A sentinel of hope;
Amid a parlous surge,
One swirling lumened rope.
Vexed vessels churn and gaze,
In rabid waves of froth,
For safety’s tethered rays,
Through nature’s taloned swath.
One hopes that through the rage,
Lost souls will see the light;
Veer toward that flickered sage
…Escape Poseidon’s smite.
**09 Apr 2016**
Copyright © david mohn | Year Posted 2016
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