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Poetry

(fôrt-trĕs)

Sea Song

His ghost-like face, wrinkled
with dry river beds;
His dark, sagging eyes,
the mirrors to his soul;
His shriveled, quaking mouth
With amber teeth, clenching a pipe;
And scattered gray hair,
salty like the sea he rode on,
and dirty like the men he met there.

A man of the sea,
Captain of a great ship.
But now, he's gone:
Never to tell another tale
Of times immemorial.

Background image from MorgueFile.