to walk the walk

To Walk the Walk

On iron decks I have walked across
the Atlantic, and forever the drone
of the ship’s heart, beats in my ears
reminding me of our mortality.
Sleepless nights when the engine
ceased in port of calls
It used to be so very different
walked on solid planks to Mandalay
where fly-fish waked, flapping sails,
roaring silence and worried mariners
when rounding Cape Horn.
Memories go untold.
Fake pearls and crows’ silver I collected,
behind me a wake of loneliness