Sailing

This is another poem I had to write for my English class. We had to read this book called The Sweet In Between by Sheri Reynolds and write a poem based on it. I think this poem can make sense even if you haven’t read the book. I hope you enjoy it! Oh and if you don’t already Follow me on Twitter and Follow Me on Pinterest

Sailing

I exist as a tiny figure on a rickety boat with one sail
Floating in a vast ocean.
A big green–blue wave rocks my boat and turns it east,
So alone I go.
My only friends are the fish, scaly and wet,
Swimming along side.

Once as I was sailing there was another boat.
In it was an old man with a rotting smile.
His rusty fishing pole caught a pretty fish.
He gutted her, skinned her, and ate her.
He threw her left over pieces in the ocean.
One day I thought I saw her eyeball floating, staring at me.

A grayish frothing wave strikes my worn vessel and pushes me south.
Ocean water, salty as tears, splashes into my mouth,
Reminding me how thirsty I always am.
The seagulls come. They eat my food. They try to peck my eyes.
They perch on the edge of my boat and call out in their vulgar language.

My ship springs a leak so I bandage it quick,
So that it will be strong and ready if there is an attack.
There was a pirate attack once,
Back when my blonde hair was long and my ship sailed north.
They took my mother, stripped her bare, and made her walk the plank.
My father, he became one of them.
I haven’t seen him since.

The wind balloons my sail, and I go south.
Sometimes I think about sailing to Europe.
I’d go to France. I’d take pictures,
But I don’t have the slightest idea how to get there.
I wish I were a gust of wind. I would go where I wanted,
Through people’s hair, up into the clouds, wherever.

A giant wave comes squashing me.
I’m tossed into the water, drowning.
As I’m plunged into the icy depths I can imagine my mother’s voice, crooning,
And my father’s arms suffocating me in a hug.
The waves pass and I find myself lying on my back,
On the floor of my boat, with the sunlight drying my face.

My dampened sail balloons up
I’m heading west.

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