In response to the latest Northography stimuli titled “The Ninth Wave”:
desperate moves within the churning sea
lost is the hull and deck
left with the mast and sails
we climb limb over limb.
tumultuous shades of green swallowed
by the black chaotic waters.
towering white capped waves
red tinged a reflection of the scarf I carry.
your face becomes clear amidst the thunder
and my soaked body becoming more limp
our last moments together on the dock
extending into the bay underneath the
full moon, the promise I made to carry
this with me and the ring I promised to bring back.