Sailor Boy

He likes to live in the past
It keeps things in place
He’s a fading die that’s cast
On an old seafaring face

He has a thousand tales
Gathered from the waves
From shipwrecks and whales
To lands full of slaves

He could talk about the days
Of scurvy and the rash
The drunk and fighting haze
The myth of rum, sodomy and lash

But there’s no listening ear
Time has left its mark
The decks have been cleared
The sea dog no longer barks

August 2026