The slap and ping cries wind
That stings an aching cold
Upon the flaps and hatches;
Where garrotted gusts spill forth
And thrust through mast and rope
In endless screaming torment.
Throbbing bloats of deepest blue
Lift all afloat to crest and curve
In anchored arches;
While frothed white lifts off
In specs of salted dust,
To drift a mirrored sea.
Her howling hands,
Revealed in scratches.
20-12-2017