The home of the engine, barely noticeable
as waves crash against cold, steel and iron.
While salty air sticks to everything and kisses
an abrasive wind stings any skin it can find.
Coffee aroma rises up in the steam of the cup
perfectly hiding captain’s stubbled cheeks.
Acting as an unneeded alarm clock for a man
who hasn’t known real rest for months.
He quietly ponders how to make his ship
catch the horizon constantly teasing him.
How many months has it been?
How many more will it be?
Such is the life
of a sailor.
Such is the life
at sea. | CA
A apt extended metaphor. Moving. Thanks for this.