Inheritance; oblong, the channel’s keel,
And broad, the shifting patterns in the wind,
And swift, the night sun’s ever-glow appeal,
And dim, the billows, mighty to contend;
Yet tight, the lungs of sailcloth brought to scend,
Yet sharp, the rudder’s sword beneath the swell,
Yet long, the skirmish, slow to be compelled.
A specter: craggy shores, exploding waves,
Deception’s happy mask of fullest fare.
A whistle in a shadow to deprave
The soundest minds’ last flashing glimpse of their
Brief clarity. Submerged beneath the air
The dreams, in ocean’s stomach, full reside,
For rare, the sleep which yields dreams from low tide.