By TD

From side to side || behind us he is weaving Soaring on high || but his wings barely moving Back down on earth || on our small tub ungraceful Cold sprays smash us || each gust gifting a face-full Over the rail || and up onto our waiting Waiting wet faces || turned half away in fear Closed up jackets || that shrink the world before us Clasp over the basin || all that we hold dear Back on high || then back again before us The screech of gulls || cut through a lesser chorus Down on the deck || against him I am burning Nurse a jealous flame || of wide wings unfurling Crawl on old boat! || Without my steel contraption Down I’d float slowly || sea-change my lungs to brine Our bodies won’t fly || won’t soar won’t glissando Without assistance || in metal or in rhyme