One's mind wanders at sea, as if in a dream.

Sailing once again the freedom of the sea calls me,
We reached the outer marker,
Becalmed, time for lunch.

The only sound was the gentle lapping of the swells against the hull.
With seas appearing smooth as glass,
Not a sound called out to me.
Just then a bell atop the marker began it's toll.

I listened to it's deep rhythmic sound,
Every four or five seconds or so....Dong.
Calling out it’s warning of impending shoals.
Time for sailors to pay attention,
Dangerous waters were now approaching.

It came to me suddenly this haunting sound could have two meanings,
Depending upon which way you're heading.
Returning from the depths a safe harbor awaits,
Sailors and fishermen at the end of their journey.

Then I felt this lonely toll to be a reminder,
To those headed away from a safe harbor.
As I listened I felt each toll could be,
Once for each sailor lost at sea.

Slowly the bell of November rang.
With a meaning for me to find,
But only here,..... in my own mind.

©2008 Walt Hardester