|Picture of shells on beach at Port A (stars added)|
Pirates caught in the curls, arcing
the shore now shirred at the edges.
Dressed in trimmed lace cuffs,
there appear empty vessels of sailors
who spend their life at sea;
their ships rarely surfacing
now glitter in sunlight.
They love and lust in murk,
liquid affairs of valor.
Deckhands dueling from the decks
of their tiny shells.
They woo and win on coral reefs
then slip into the night,
making a pirate’s getaway
before they give their gifts
to the gentle dawn of inkiness.
Their abandoned offspring
left to learn the sailing arts alone.
© Gay Reiser Cannon * 6.18.12 * All Rights Reserved