MARINER'S HOPE

A rescue ship sways
over my rusty orange kayak
under a noonday watch
of windy North Atlantic gales
refreshing my five senses
as silky rain shadows
the horizontal settling light
on my back
catches up to a poet
spying a right whale
who writes into the sunset
from his warm hand
on a bare Fall red leaf
over embraced whispered lines
as he breathlessly swims out
rushing under the weight
of blue soapy waters
planning to sleep early
near greensward  gardens
over tall grass dunes
along Rockport riverbeds
at the home harbor beach.