Indistinctly

The pelican is back. fussing the boat
with blank eyes, horizon-high
in the valley of a wave 
rolling ‘neath the keel, 
uncoupled from 
solidity.

a deep gregarious green
heaving the hull rhinoceros 
in the pale… 

my nets, barren.

my ale at
hand.

II

Drydock mercy now. my feet in the peat
pebbles black as a dirge… 
and an offshore breeze
like a soft train
passing
by.