An Honest Pirate

with eyes peeled beyond the horizon:
a man is primed to plunder the
sea of utter space

a man set to pluck from the gleaming sea
whatever sails by, pillage each wave,
inspire even the mists of vapor that fly
from the curl of the first crest,
that fly from the freshest curl of every crest,
that fly free from the last curl of the last crest
before it rolls and tumbles rough
into one trough

and when the wind dies and the sea’s still,
smooth as a baby’s cheeks or a shaven face,
and clouds sail quietly overhead like fleece,
that pirate will have grabbed his loot
satisfied he did not cheat
to gain its grace

Jim Culleny
June 4, 2009


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