Along the coastline of my mind
brain waves are crashing, an
unrelenting activity nature conferred
upon me—seventy-five years at sea.
Night and day, my thoughts sail the
waves, high tide and low, the ebb
and flow of what I do and have yet
to know, my ship run aground now
and then.
And yet I sail in storm and fair,
on occasion dead in still waters,
doldrums there. A light, salty
breeze wafts over me.
In storm and calm, I continue on,
navigating the universal sea of my
own turmoil and tranquility. Ahoy,
Matey, welcome aboard. Avast ye,
blimey, it’s only me.
-30-
Chris Hanch 2-6-2320
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