RED SKY’S IN THE MORNING
RED SKY’S IN THE MORNING
The early morning craggy sky
revealing a blood red eye.
Black clouds scurry my way
chasing any trace of blue
away.
The order is given,
“batten the hatches,
drop the main sail,
Point the prow to the wind,
And if ye be a God fearing man;
It be best to pray”.
The sea washes over the
deck
and the ocean becomes a
mad boil.
Some say that’s when
the invisible hand of fate
passes over you.
Rivers of water flow
through
like a women’s
out stretched hands,
as the sea rushes in.
A sound from afar like the
groan of a whale;
a shutter and crack
as the mighty ship
fights back .
With a shake
like leaves on a tree
the ship slips out of sight
‘neath the sea.
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