The Death of a Sailor

Across a jazzblue tapestry so keenly woven
speckled shine scatteres across the blue-black backdrop

grizzled and grey,
he sits inhaling the smoke of death
once a vision of yellow boots slushing in the deckwater
Grown to hard cursing and soft undertones
and onward to a haggard old man

he sits stillborn, pipe dangling
hands folded in content; a seafarer's dream
the smoke crowding in his lungs, the pipe drops to the deck
and a slow smile of retribution catches
the sailor's face

as his body falls off the edge
into the ocean that so resembles the sky
his seaborn spirit reaches into the heavens

grey beard catching in the wind, he is lifted
into the copycat sky
where he touches fingertips with a beautiful siren

as his body floats down
to be claimed by the sea.