Mark well that light on Widow’s Peak
Shining two fortnight now in futile beckoning.

The sea takes no notice of the amber glow
Nor do those aslumber in her depth.

Mark well the widow’s sobbing, knowing without knowing
That her man has taken another bride.

Green tendril’d arms embrace him now,
A thousand nibbled kisses reduce him to memory.

Mark well the kirkyard stone, In Pacem Requiescat.
The sea has nurtured, has provided, has collected her debt.

Brave men will venture forth, as brave men are wont to do
But before you, my bonnie lad, sail out on the briny deep,

Mark well that the sea is a jealous thing,
Full with tenacious love and lust.

Mark well these words of give and take
And of the debt that may come due.

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From “A Mixed Bag” by Rick Fontes
Available at Amazon and other fine book sellers.