Catalina Sings
Soft lower lights are burning on the shore,
and evening’s moonlight polishes the clouds;
most harbor sounds are settling with the mist
that weaves between our sails in filmy shrouds.
The rhythmic water laps, ‘longside our hull,
with gentle, pleasant sounds that comfort me.
The ocean’s fluid womb enfolds, with care,
our rocking, wooden cradle on the sea.
Throughout my dreams, a bell rings from the hill
that overlooks the cove we anchored near;
Westminster chimes-- I still recall those nights,
when Catalina sang them in my ear.
