Homing Device

the sudden tacks
of surging sail
against the tracks
and lifelines of the rail

the sweep of silver mast
across the deck we live
on, the boom a needle
on the compass of the jib

in this shipwreck of a rip
horizon nowhere
but the constant slip
against the nightmare sea

the ocean’s foaming rear
from the water’s drowning trap
the swell and roll
of brine the sweep and lap

of blowing time a span
where the combing tends
whatever sunken bit of sand
the drifting whirlpool sends

May 8th, 2017, Holawa Place