What did I think was I doing here? <br />This was no old man*s cruise. <br />These waves belonged to the <br />Fresh faced, twenty something, sailors. <br />Their deference simply made it worse <br /> <br />Even here in this dark Sonar room <br />faces tinged green from the screen*s glow <br />My heart holds only loneliness <br />my mind ever on her who’s smile haunts me <br />and even their young laughter jars <br /> <br />The vow *never again* becomes a mantra. <br />And I dig inside myself for one, <br />Just one, small spark of joy <br />But my mind and heart are <br />Like the seas we sail, troubled and grey <br /> <br />*We have a contact* brings me from the greyness <br />and on my screen the dots appear and grow <br />strange, unusual contacts, *Go to aural* headphones buzz. <br />Suddenly my heart lifts, my eyes swim and my soul soars, <br />as my head is filled with waves of whale song.<br /><br />Bill Mitton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonar/
