2012-03-31-1019-24_editedOut at sea, across the line

I note the gain,

Whether sunshine or rain,

Or going another way,

a day is lost.

But I do not count the cost,

not being aware

Of what or who I am,

or even to care.

How did I get this far?


I toast the day, gain or loss,

with wine in a jar

Because out on the sea

on waters calm or stormy

An imaginary line changes time.


The opportunity mine

I thought was lost,

But again, again I failed to

note the cost;

Disillusioned once again

by what is gone

And what I gain.


The line—imaginary,

the sailor ordinary

Is alone takes

the change in stride

Because it is just a ride—

across an empty sea.


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