"Sailor in the Rain"
At eight bells when, at last, my watch is done,
my Captain, strew me leeward from the stern:
a brief gray cloud to smudge that lightsome day.
Then will I ride upon the surging waves,
in rhythm with the pulse of Mother Sea.
What currents will I plumb; what depths achieve.
How lightly will I rise and lighter fall
as rain upon the land, to spiral in
blue boundless skies and fall on varied shores,
to plummet weeping basalt cliffs and run
in giggling rills, to trickle hills and pool
in chasms labyrinthine. Oh, look for me,
my Captain, in the shower and the gale,
in mighty storms upon the sea, and on
the glistening dewy decks of gentle dawns.
Denis Garrison
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