The Captain Knows Why
- jameslegare
- Jul 21
- 1 min read
Updated: Jul 30
Sleeping under rocks. Couch surfing. Bountiful blue, the float skiff from shore, a dandy. Cod stew, bright birds, net askance, blond hair, days long. Bold as the sun's rise. A Waverly blanket, in men's horizon, crew. Rushing slowly water mourning rocks Taffeta golden brown unfurls. The sky as a sun wills to rise. Friendly sailor, he sails the way, the water waves, cool physics clouds, rush away. That sound is made. Hush and waves in the wake, in the distance. Eyes Azul blaze a mystery. The Russian way, the way we know, he knows the way. Is the sound, rush away. By sound, last star will disappear. The shore skipper's coastal keep. Cape Hope, Cape Fear. We live by the catch. Seagulls nod with a rise and fall. Not far behind, the harlot's lie. Race for time, the captain, know he knows why. -
The Captain Knows Why, -
By, James Legare 7-21-2025
jameslegare@jameslegare007 (Follow Me On X, previously Twitter)
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