by Leslie W. Bond
Thursday, November 14, 2002
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As I looked out across the vast sea,
I noticed the winds whistling and moaning;
as if it were trying to call for me,
as it slipped through my storm glazed hair.
It's an eerie feeling, as if everything else,
around me were very still and calm,
except for that almost silent whisper slowly emerging from the blackest depths of the sea.
Perhaps it was the silent cries from her
majesties gallant clipper ship forever lost in some unending voyage of the past, with her crew and captain still calling for me in hopes of a long sought for rescue. Or perhaps it was just her lingering memories forever hidden beyond the unending conscience of the winds, rising in the mist of the furious waves. Who knows? Believe me I'm still searching, but whatever that howling feeling was, I can truthfully say, it's still a mystery! Copy write May 1985,New voices in American Poetry(anthology),Vantage press, New York ,NY.