After a Rough Night (Poetry)

I am the sail boat after the night’s long storm
limping into harbour
hull battered, canvas flapping — wet and torn
and I list — a little vague in my direction
my ballast slipped
the damage down below
where water slops about
and all is floating in
the broken calm — like thoughts tugged free
drift forever shorewards.

My aged rigging trails its ruins
ropes frayed out — their tension gone
lost to faded rage and passing fury
those great black drowning waves roll like the years —
                                                        sweep on and on
and leave me in the dawn
with crooked mast and compass lost
listening to the salt voice of the wind
                                                rubbing sore
and telling me — Let go
                                what’s past
                                        is past...