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Friday, April 19, 2013

Sailing The Inland Sea

Sailing the inland sea
Shores all of last season's leaves
In a boat without propulsion
Bumping into gopher mound cushions

How far can it possibly go?

Down the mad running rapids
That connect one pond to the next
Tossing and turning
Wind directionless as if hexed

To the sea of giant duck
Where they must be quiet as mice
Steering the great plastic ship
Avoiding fallen trees once or twice

Is there a goal?
What is the mission?

"There doesn't have to be"
Snaps the captain
Angry that anyone has spoken without permission

At that he steers directly into the main stream
Gully walls angled away at precise angle
Snarling at squirrels and early frogs
Lest they get into the bare rigging and get tangled

"Somewhere out there is the real sea
I can feel it"

The captain rubbed his knees
His bones aching at the sensation of feeling anything at all
His chances of making it to open water
About as good as the chances that this is not a tale ten feet tall

But that doesn't stop him

And in someone's imagination still
This little boat full of brave little people
Are sailing far off seas

For wishes and horses
Pretend boats, captains and crew
All live on forever
In the meandering minds of me and you


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