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Port in the StormRain pelting his old slicker, seagulls dropping on his deckHe felt like some poor dolphin, in that nor’easter’s netTrawler bobbin’ like a cork, in those twenty foot swellsThat skipper’s scared reflection, in his old captain’s bellWinter needed that last catch, though he knew he’d been warnedNow prayers scattered on the gales, were his only port in the stormHe hoped one long night of hell, was all heaven would allowJagged bolts of lightning, like stairways to the cloudsHe had something below deck, with the swordfish on iceAs he pulled out that cheap wine, he saw his life in their eyesHe’d been savin’ that bottle, for when he docked at homeInstead he’d go down smilin’, with a jug of port in the stormHe woke up to a whale song, and a clear endless daySunrise painting rainbows, in that blue whale’s sprayTides shifted to the west, and tugged his boat ashoreHe was surprised to see his mom, a-waiting on the wharfAnd was that a distant trumpet, or a welcoming foghornSeems he wasn’t far after all, from a safe port in the stormThe coast guard found some driftwood, nothing else was savedA half moon saw a bottle, sink below the wavesCos somewhere past the north star, an old salt’d been rebornAt least he sailed there drinkin’, a jug of port in the storm©2007 Robert George