Once in port the little ship
forgets the pitch, forgets the trough
and loudly laughs the lightning off
that ripped from main to mizzen tip
and hugs the slip with hempen hands
until those bands turn prison chains
and for the main it longs again
or how could there be Newfoundlands?
robert dickerson
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/once-in-port/
