Midnight, and a Breeze-Blown Spray ​

Midnight, and a breeze-blown spray

strafes my cheek. My eyes flare open,

muscles tense, poised for the onset

of that old nightmare, a frenzy

of wrestling with a billowing tent

while rain pummels my back.

 

But instead of blackness blotting

out the sky, it’s moon I see,

a pale orange scow jauntily riding

the swells of night, black breakers

and a foam of stars.Be calm,

the skipper calls down.

All is well.

Route 7 is published by Dixie State University

225 South University Avenue St. George, UT 84770

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