Memories of the storm that never came

Day 63
21 Mar 11

Candles in glass vessels bring high seas
close to heart in our landlocked home.
When I walk past the flame, the breeze
brings shadows and the thought of foam
beneath the bowsprit breaking waves.
And I stand under the stars watching clouds
scud across the deep, dark blue overhead
my mind takes me back to the silver shrouds
of youth, wrapped in history, already dead.