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LEAVE WILL BE PIPED
LEAVE WILL BE PIPED
Third day out, the seas have subsided.
Cold at dusk on the bridge, but John
is cooking something warm below. This morning
while no one was looking, I gave my first notes the deep six
over the side--ten pages gone forever. Then
the weather cleared again, but the wind rose.
Charged with some of the navigation, I shy away
from the chart, as if I do not know what the next port
will be. The lighthouse fixes seem to fall right
and the first evening stars appear on time.
May the ocean resist the violations of my vows.
My inconsistencies in life have always led
to erratic courses and general loss of faith
in destinations. Expected time of arrival
is 10 p.m., 15 minutes later we shall be hove-to,
tied, and ready to disembark. Leave will be piped
and we shall go ashore. I’ll keep strictly to the roads
and not wander off them into inviting backgrounds.
That will cut the temptations to half. Helm ten to port
and the small mountains come into view. Sky clears.
Some twinkling lights as we approach the island.
Secure the dividers, hand over the watch, go down
to shave and wash and eat, collect a new set
of ambitions and desires from the drawer of time
and walk down the plank to the land, as if I didn’t know
anything about it. It’s an old trick that works each time.
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from SEA JOURNEYS
Nikos Tselepides, Jan 5th, 2007, near Kasos Island.
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