Harboured, by Sarah Russell
The sloop is moored now, sails
down and rippled like the bay,
rocking herself to sleep, smelling
of fish and salt and musk. Age
and good whiskey let you hear
the sighs of boats when they’re alone,
freed from the clanks and groans
of setting sail. Old boats prefer
the gentle swells near shore,
I think, clouds flirting with the moon,
wisps of wind riffling the water.
I pat her wooden hull, dull in places,
needing varnish. Me too, I say to her.
Sarah Russell’s poetry and fiction have been published in Rattle, Misfit Magazine, Third Wednesday, The Ekphrastic Review and many other journals and anthologies. She is a Pushcart Prize nominee. She has two poetry collections published by Kelsay Books, I lost summer somewhere and Today and Other Seasons. Her novella The Ballerina Swan Lake Mobile Homes Country Club Motel will be published in Fall, 2022 by Running Wild Press. She blogs at SarahRussellPoetry.net.
11/16/2022 06:19:12 am
This is beautiful Sarah...gorgeous writing...
11/17/2022 07:23:15 pm
Thank you, Linda!
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