Sailing, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

SailingThe Yacht ‘America’ Winning the International Race, Fitz Hugh Lane (1851)


On a carpet of blue white sails billow
Filled with summer’s  warm softly scented air
Stretched from its mast like a downy pillow
Hurriedly attempting to be elsewhere

From advantage point enjoying the race
Knowing nothing of the art of sailing
Wondering if they can maintain this pace
No idea the first to be failing

All tacking to different direction
Loss of perspective of those in the lead
Some gone in the glare of the reflection
While others because of their immense speed

At the quiet horizon blue meets blue
For just a moment these eyes are searching
No longer is there a sail in my view
Excitement, the day couldn’t be more pleasing


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