Looking at the painting on the wall

of the boats in some unknown,

beautiful harbor town,

the small village located quaintly by

mostly sailboats

in the water,

I imagine myself in one of those boats,

staring longingly at you

and the boys,

on the shore,

waving me home,

to a loving house,

there on the crest,

of that green hill,

beyond the other sailboats.

and yet,

I already feel the urge

to head back out to sea,

as soon as possible,

even in the daydream