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.