𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐒𝐚𝐢𝐥
The tide made docking
difficult—
I hold glowing coals
from gripping ropes,
my hair is a nest of straws
harvested
from ocean fields.
I stand on the bow and watch
you at the helm
against a Monét sky,
the coins of day spent,
your face burnt and content
from cranking chrome winches
and pulling halyards amidst
twenty knot winds:
the sloop keeled at wild angles
clowning with whitecaps,
and the scents of salt and seaweed
filled our nostrils
and we soared with the seagulls.
— D. G. Vachal
from Vachal, D. G. (2026), The Turning of Light, (Amazon)
* Image: Alone by Giampaolo Macorig
lilies, sparrows and grass 
🙌🏼 Great expressions throughout! Love how your words skip along and catch the rhythms of the waves and sea, the wind.
Thank you so much, Susan. I’m so glad the poem’s small sail caught the rhythms of sea and wind and water for you. ⛵🌊