ghostism

......and this quietude is not silence. not altogether. there is a forest of masts on the horizon and these knees quiver in the icy gusts. like a pendulum the sun hangs behind metallic clouds. it is new. and some seeing eyes watch the sea below. my heart is with my love aboard the creaking schooner. there is hunger. but it burns at the deep of my feeling heart. the ocean seems endless. but yearning is in the present like the sun aching to break the clouds wide. this all rises and falls with each living breath and the beating of this longing.