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Soap Box Poets

Voyage
© by Carmen Tafolla

I was the fourth ship.
Behind Niña, Pinta, Santa María,
Lost at sea while watching a seagull,
Following the wind and sunset skies,
While the others set their charts.

I was the fourth ship.
Breathing in salt and flying with clouds,
Sailing moonbreezes and starvision nights,
Rolling into the wave and savoring its lull,
While the others pointed their prows.

I was the fourth ship.
Playfully in love with the sea,
Eternally entwined with the sky,
Forever vowed to my voyage,
While the others shouted "Land."

Submitted by Ruth

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