Storm At Sea
Silently the wind slips into the night
Settling down beneath a silver moon
Shimmering across still waters,
Slowly creeping across somber sky
So stealthily no one sees the storm
Subtly slipping onto the farthest rim
Sailors’ warning sometimes an epitaph
Sunrise will see the sails must be trim
Suddenly, scurrying below to perform,
Sickly seamen who are wont to die
Still are called to stand their quarters
Simply to do their duty, none too soon,
Stretching sinews with all their might.
written August 4, 2021
[an experimental poem using alliteration
and reverse rhyming. The center of the
poem is the line ending in "epitaph."
Thereafter the rhymes are reversed.]
Copyright © L Milton Hankins | Year Posted 2021
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