Musings: Did I ever tell you the tale when I rounded Cape Horn? By LJ Frank

It’s evening aboard the three-mast vessel

though I’m uncertain of the name

a figurehead on the bow is drenched,

as the ship is tossed about in heavy seas –

a pandemic, climate change, an economy based on greed

death is a number

expectations on the stock exchange 

pales in comparison to a life without

the sailors all know the rats, roaches and microbes will survive

despair

whether it be nuclear or by one’s own hand

the deck is stained here and there with a red tint

yet the ego remains hungry  

peace will come when it’s lucrative

the ship flounders as dolphins leap over waves

with smiles on their face

allow me something to laugh about and love

dances in a sailor’s mind

to grin in the face of the raw

for some, humor is hiding below deck

while another wave from the deep washes over the planks

election postponed or results manufactured or denied

 the ship’s navigational instruments are now in question

buoyancy is a prayer among the crew

and the ship floats for the moment at hand,

“Did I ever tell you the tale

when I rounded Cape Horn?”

A swarthy old sailor queries his mates.