While the Sail Danced Her Dance
Tales of returning
On a cold winter's day,
With the sails in shreds
Dancing every which way,
Total despair,
Knowing numbered were her days,
Looking on her life
Through a rain-like haze.
A madman driver
Hollering in Tomahawk style,
Gray epic waters,
A sea-going child,
As far as the eye could see,
Huddled figures
Dressed in nautical
Style.
One once a
Scintillating starlet
With many eager fans,
Clutching at a rope,
With cold-bruised hands,
Huddled there,
While the sail
Danced her dance.
Copyright © Carl Halling | Year Posted 2015
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