A Drunken Sailor of Sorts

It’s like cold Chardonnay,

This weightless floating.

Homes I left behind trail

Away into a pupil in the sun,

A self-contained equilux,

Sinking over the ocean.

Mermaids sing memories

Across changing winds,

Upon which my realisations

Race then hover and sit, still.

They also sink and acquiesce

Into the arms of the horizon

With each breath. Bubbles

Burning like fire as they

Submerge, a wreckage

Reflected in my eyes.

After, I find a white shell

For my solemn collection,

As if to certify and bless

My lonely, sandy footsteps.

The journey is my home,

Cradled in the rhythm of

Life’s pulse, I propose a

Toast over the swaying

Cosmos. A glass of fizz

For the road, a testament

To a pocket of time.



🎨/📷 by Caspar David Friedrich, The Sea of Ice, 1823-24