Sonnet for Kellie
Some say your words act as a balm
A fleet of sweet tidings
Sailing into a gray dawn.
With white sails riding
On the heels of a grand mast
That sways without invoking
A need for true ballast.
It seems as though your rage
That spars with mine among the waves
Has now chosen to disengage
From me among the graves...
Of sailors lost at sea
Displaced by blithely prying winds
And now what will become of me?
Whose multitude of sins
Imply that my veracity
Contends with your tenacity.
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