Deep blue waters rush underneath

her prow, sails whipped and torn

in harsh, billowing windstorms

an angry tempest of clouds

beneath a white-hot, full moon

a sudden shift, bone-chilling cold breaking through

the breathless heat of a piercing sun.

Frothy waves violently rocking her hull

stern stabbing into sharp black rocks below

ripping her underbelly, tearing apart

her flesh, exposing her splintered insides

shattered pieces of raw timber torn from her deck.

They float among the smooth pink seashells

like so many footprints

fading away

memories sinking to rest

on the dark ocean floor

eventually, her raw debris

washing up onto shore

with the tide.

img_7439_40_41ac+Written in response to the prompt over @Toads, a-sailing-we-will-go.

Copyright June 27 2016 Stacie Eirich