Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction
The following is a piece of writing submitted by gabemay on February 7, 2013
Cold Poem
ONE, TWO, THREE, HEAVE!ONE, TWO, THREE, HEAVE!
AVAST!
SLACK DOWN EASY!
HEAVE! HEAVE! HEAVE!
My ship pulls into port.
We make a formation.
The wind is still whipping our coveralls.
The cold is on our skin.
SECURE FROM SEA AND ANCHOR DETAIL.
There it is.
The sound of freedom.
Now I can take comfort inside,
The skin of the ship.
MAY, SET UP THE RAT GUARDS.
Crud.
AndsoIgoandgetahelmetandpickuparatguard.
And still the cold is on my skin.
I walk to the jack staff.
(Imagine me being Jack in Titanic.
Except there is no girl,
And I don't pretend to fly).
I am only attempting to attach the rat guard
on the line I was just heaving.
And still the cold is on my skin.
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