Betwixt the Wind and Water

Betwixt the Wind and Water

As Tillman Swidden finished his eighty-seventh birthday

he suffered pinpricks in his knees; sharp-end roadmaps in veins

All fury felt in red-hued black, fists smashing betwixt the wind and water

watching virile boats sail out to sea, like lovers to fecund tryst

He suffered pinpricks in his knees; sharp-end roadmaps in veins

through his rising from bitter dock-side chair,

watching virile boats sail out to sea, like lovers to fecund tryst

Gnashing choleric teeth, he spit tobacco to gusting wind

Through his rising from bitter dock-side chair,

his ragged wrath rejoiced at nothing; vexed bones visible to the eye

Gnashing choleric teeth, he spit tobacco to gusting wind    

and turned his back on what he’d passioned; his love-song of the sea

His ragged wrath rejoiced at nothing; vexed bones visible to the eye

Tillman swore in broken, hammered colors with aged, lapsing tongue

and turned his back on what he’d passioned; his love-song of the sea

He’d spent seventy lovelorn years upon her thankless breast

Tillman swore in broken, hammered colors with aged, lapsing tongue

for knotted fists and gnarled hips kept him from his wet-skinned mistress

He’d spent seventy lovelorn years upon her thankless breast,

but now a brazen tempest was she; her rage against him showed

For knotted fists and gnarled hips kept him from his wet-skinned mistress

Chipped and frayed, betrayed by age and brittled dream,

but now a brazen tempest was she; her rage against him showed

She offered no respite as others sailed her sensuous waves

Chipped and frayed, betrayed by age and brittled dream

as Tillman Swidden finished his eighty-seventh birthday

She offered no respite as others sailed her sensuous waves,

all fury felt in red-hued black, fists smashing betwixt the wind and water