Following Sea

The tide at your back

a gentle push,

a smooth ride.

But it’s the sea.

Always dangerous.

Let down your guard 

the rudder softens.

The bow dips,

digs in.

You pray she doesn’t spin.

Broach.

Capsize.

Slow down?

Never.

The sea will pour over the stern,

swamp the cockpit,

drag you under.

The easy way

is never easy.

So you fall off to port,

then starboard

a tedious zigzag,

never straight for home.

The shortest distance

may be a straight line,

but not with her.

She demands your eyes,

your hands,

your full respect.

No shortcuts.

Never conquered.

Never tamed.

Wild.

Beautiful.

Fickle as first love.

The cry of a gull,

Home is near.

The bite of kerosene and diesel,

salt on your lips.

Is it the sea

or sweat?

She’s in your blood.

Always dangerous.

Always loved.

Always one memory away.