From a Young Sailor

Port call again, our boat is cursed!
In ten days we’ve gone twice to sea
and twice returned
in so few days,
so broken.

Our drills to test her prowess fail.
She fights us back with some of hers
that make no sense at all
but take us churning back to shore
to wait for more repairs,
just wait.

I should be doing useful things somewhere
if not aboard this boat, this sub,
this Bold One, some would say.
Instead I rot, as she will not,
on this dry land
and make great effort
not to die from boredom learned in port.
Too still,
It’s much too still.

And so,
this sailor’s fleeting
time will pass;
but I want more,
much more than this,
this so few days at sea.

Patricia Long
July 5, 2003