Bight Marks

by Hamish Danks Brown

Ocean asserted itself all night
wiping away sea–grassed sleep
then drain–dreamed until light
and dumped my waking heap.

Slumber–jacked, spilled overboard
into taut tentacles, sharp shoals,
again times again a furies’ fjord
and the flapping of poetic scrolls.

Am I really but another tear
falling from your eyes shut
fast with thunder borne fear
of my lightning in your hut.
You unearthed me siren–nurse
yet there’ll never be twice.
Our storm must soon disperse
o’er this floatation device.

Currents shifting further away
from all those gone down below
the shelf out from this shallow bay
while Dad so holds me in his tow.
Between soundings and the helm
under blindfolded starless sky
pitching, rolling, upon bunk realm,
wishing your Nay! would be Aye!

Am I really but another fish
flailing to ascend your stream
flowing stronger past my wish
to reach reality, breach a dream.
You forth–firthed me my jeune–nurse
yet there’ll never be reprise
Our storm must too soon disperse
and release us from pack ice.
Were we to sail out together again
and rebuild our ardent armada anew
with your blessing as the coxswain
for whom I’d be your rowing crew.

Thus my mutiny invites your scrutiny.

This deck is yours…….