Crest of a Wave

The boat is sailing
out of the harbor by noon,
never to return again.

The captain is saluting
the mindless crowd
of people, waving goodbye.

The three-decker ship
in which he steers
without any hands
is floating
on the crest
of a iridescent wave,
six thousand feet
below the surface
of the sea.

And never before
have I felt more free.


~J.V.Harker~
~Sunday 25 April 2009~