I start out <br />to write about <br />the boat on my <br />medallion from Crete. <br />A never-replaced <br />chain holds it <br />through the loop. <br />I wear the necklace <br />with a boat to remember <br />what happened <br />when I made the stops <br />I shouldn't have, <br />though mostly <br />it has been <br />a life in which I never <br />had to say, 'should've <br />sailed when the sailing <br />was good.' And I wear it <br />to remember the storm <br />between Mikanos and Crete <br />that tipped the Cretan fishing boat <br />with such force I thought <br />it wouldn't recover. <br />I set out to keep in mind <br />the boat moving <br />around my chest hair, <br />my waves, and the storm <br />you can't see coming, <br />and the water where <br />some fishermen learn <br />not to go, that place <br />their wives dread. <br />Me and something, and <br />something else swinging <br />when I walk, or when I lean <br />over her mouth. I wear <br />the necklace for protection, <br />I wear it to remind me that Linda, <br />who gave it to me, who, reaching up, <br />hooked it together, found it on Crete <br />in a shop in Agio Nickolaus <br />called Big Cheap Store <br />where, in fact, nothing <br />was cheap, and mostly <br />there was only one <br />of everything for sale, <br />and the bartering <br />wasn't easy, but <br />it was done.<br /><br />Doren Robbins<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-boat-my-waves-love-poem/
