1,000th Poem – “The Moment kept on the Anchor” – Romance – 7/25/2020

Can a grip
Truly slip
Free, from the sand
More bottomless
Than the sea?

I hold down cradles, more dear
Than up my sails.

She was the terror upon the wind,
I write to the journey of endless breaths.

She wields the storm,
My tempest,
Her eyes, held in the clouds,
Her face, kept behind
To the sun that will not show,
Will not grow in warmth.

I stand here,
Departed from land.
Frozen on the quaking boards,
Of my deck.

The lonely call
Of gull from what island
Means to pull,
Cannot be more alone that to where I have glided.

I am here,
With anchor slowing my pace,
For I cannot walk upon these waves.

Her tears have made the ocean,
My neglect, the storm.
I wither to send remnants of petals
Up towards Heaven.

Her breath,
The word,
My death,
The sword.