I seem to have a memory of the sea

of wave lifted ships

of heavy rope

and deep blue oceans where I,

looking down into the blue, see nothing but water forever.

I seem to remember

a past life

of sail and salt

of smell and sound

of midnight black on quiet decks

and stars above

and shouts and calls and endless sun and heat.

It is a memory of the sea

of a life

of ancient swimming mammals and fish

a life I miss and know that if I ever go to sea again

I will be going home.