The Language of the Sea

 

The language of the sea is difficult to learn

for those whose lives have not been spent upon

its storms and calms, face tilted to the wind,

the shifts of tide and time beneath their feet.

I come late to this arcane discipline

that sailors feel with bones and blood. The sea

taunts me like the brown boys taunt the tourists

on market day; cajoles me like a lover

in some foreign voice that hints of starlight

on oily water, currents deep and cold

and sailors’ dreams of voyages unfinished,

their narratives still waiting to be told.