poseidon's sigh

Waves fight to rouse a sailor,

tipping books off an unsecured shelf,

their thuds replace his dreams 

of death with the bunk above,

as his eyelids part unhurriedly

another text joins its fellows,

fluttering joylessly to impact

as if in explanation.

Outside,

whipped vapors whirl

strictly around stillness,

a storm goes passing by.

Now here stands the sailor on deck,

surveying frothing waters walking to the sky

with a calm eye.

poseidon's sigh goes passing by

and as the waves intersect the winds which rend back,

crashing onto stillness

to make stillness, 

it is the sailor seething,

the waves cowering in turbid fear,

for not in their furthest fantasies could they believe

that in their shameful bows they eclipse an instant of his boundless rage

cresting now upon the ship's wheel

hand over relentless hand,

blooming in red,

rippling with ambition,

already inhaling

deeper than the storm.