Bold twilight strokes fade,

Lost in dense haze of sweet burnt chocolate,

Spiced sugar mingled with Spanish leather

As he litters unlined linen with words

Worn thoughts, coarse and fine

Leans back, aching, drinks wine, pores over time

Pages torn from stained logs, plans lost at sea

Adrift, days out from Tegucigalpa,

Kingstown, Havana

As he reefed bed sheets on rocking horse boats

Stared down storms on nascent horizon while

One by one, he counted wizened gulls' cries

Signs that shoals were close

Ahead, pirate haven too real for play

Promises made only to be broken

Young man’s paradise offered and bought

Cassandra’s landfall

Travels no more with

The Gentleman Corsair of Bourbon Street

Lives now through his pen, not youth’s made up days

Lights a perfecto, moves fist to clean page

Dreams are dear, worlds cheat.