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.