sailors – mike james

There were sailors everywhere
With sailor white hats
On a bus headed inland

Away from shore, water no longer a mirror,
Nothing seemed endless except sky

The sailor in the farthest backseat drank dark tea
He watched the landscape, wished to be it,
And thought of Alice
And thought of wonderment and heavy dew

When the bus became too noisy
He said hushabye to himself
As though he were his own child

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