by Charles Troob
Along the margin of a bay
sailboats strewn like paper flags
skimmed and skated.
At helms and under masts
men and women
stretched their limbs
under July sun
as the joy of the breeze
on bones and sinews,
on jibs and shrouds
and scudding keels
revived a past
when schooners and sloops
and gales that propelled them
were the trucks and fuel
of this perilous coast
and the power and skill
to ride with the wind
meant food for your kids
and life through the winter
and you lived with the gods
of sea and air.
Charles Troob: An eager member since 2010 of two wonderful study groups–Lessons in The Art of Writing, and Reading and Writing Poetry–Charles is grateful for the opportunity to share some of the results.