Magnets too close to my compass scrambled north.
No pail for bailing,
sinking
flailing.
Engine flooded.
Troubled thoughts that whistle round like the wind.
Drowned sign saying,
‘Keep this way up!’
Dampened flares,
no call of Mayday,
SOS
No! -
Batten down the hatches
for fear to drown the crew.
I will sail through
to sunset and calm water
dry out the sails and
approach the harbour light
afloat.
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