klundera
Mar 12, 2022

Seed

Shivering on forbidding shores under
cries of wheeling gulls on slate grey sky
we wait for events to unfold,
feeling the blast of sea air coming in,
the salt taste sharp on our tongues,
it drains the blood from exposed skin,
yet your gentle breath wafts close
and warm on nape of neck as I extend
my arm to the far horizon and take
in palm of hand the slowly looming
over-laden boat and encompass it
like a precious incubating seed.

About This Poem

Style/Type: Free verse

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - polished draft

About the Author

Country/Region: UK

Favorite Poets: Philip Larkin

More from this author

Comments

Geezer

I like this a lot. It made me feel as though I could taste the air and feel the breeze. ~ Geez.
.

K

Thanks. The subject was closer to home than the previous one so probably more successful for that…what did you think of the end?
Regards,
klundera

Geezer

were trying to say that there is more to come from this boat, you just have to wait for it to dock. ~Geezer.
.

Obadiah Grey

Hiya, Klundera.

Good piece! well written.
The only thing that irked me was,,,,, 'slate grey sky'
its a tad well worn a phrase.

Cheers, Obi.

Ray Whitaker

I am looking forward to reading more of your stuff.

As far as the question about the ending... "over-laden boat" pu me in a pic of a boat about to swamped , crisis. It that what you intended?