MY MISTRESS

by Ames K. Swartsfager

She lay there naked,

her bunting bundled and neatly tied.

in her reflection on the still waters

she looks lithe and youthful.

I sigh,

what a beautiful and loyal mistress.

she has intervened and kept me from all harm

and now...

I lift my head and look at her supine image

she is no longer a youth.

her wrinkles cannot be concealed by

a coat of makeup paint.

I remember

the great times we shared

lying together in the night

under the stars...

But now...now she's old

more like a strumpet...used up.

yet she beckons me come near

but I am too ill...done in.

Unable to stroke her rails

too sick to walk her decks.

no more will I clothe her with Dacron

no more will I set her course to adventure.

I must leave her and live on the land

I must desert my friend of so many years.

I close my eyes to fight back the sadness

I close my ears to her plaintive cry.

I turn,

try not to look back,

to see her wiggle her stern flirtatiously in the current.

but I do.

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