Sailing before the wind
This long while I
Wasn't prepared to
See it change, put
Me on a broad reach,
Scrambling below for
My spinnaker half-
Heartedly, settling for
The Genoa and as the
Wind grew, the working
Jib and then the storm.
Fitting this if it's more
Wind than I can handle,
Limping from stem to stern
Well enough when the weather
Was fair, but this strange wind
Shoves me whither it will.
Now down to my smallest
Sail, gripping the tiller with
Knuckles white I feel
The overwhelming come.
