Convergent blues

All the people are gone now
Three miles from the end of the road
Few people now make the journey
The road he built by hand to travel here

The long walk to make it past the bad step
To a place where the isles string as charms on a bracelet
Here the dry-dock bones rest bare
The conversation’s to a deserted outpost

The last ship long since underway
For many a year it’s been since the hull left the slipway
Masts raised, rigging tendered
Finishing complete, too long now, set underway

Long now the sailed distance
The voices to a raised family, a long journeyed crew
Spanning across generations
The stories to a life of legend, a life out on the vanish

Out on the horizon’s convergent blues.

4 responses to “Convergent blues

    • I just read the poem again, and it’s a mix of different experiences (faraway place, old friends, and family) for that particular week. It was written while sitting a top a local mountain in high winds, staring out to the North as Cyclone Dylan took witness 500 miles away, and thinking about an old friend from decades past, and her recent lose.

      Thanks, Christy

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