Haunted

The distant face of the smoking sea
hides a curly silvered setting sun
surrounded in a black siesta
misty mirror where gin
and sea beams unfold.

A vague wind knows biceps
positioning sails
have a land in sight.

Night is deep in the sounds
of the locked abyss
it comes visionary and hollow,
sighs along with the long shade
from a sailor's cap,
moves in calloused hands mending nets,
and the bodyless,
paused footsteps on deck.