Member-only story
Vessel
emptied out and ready
the drain way, way
down at the bottom,
rushing, the plug pulled
fear guzzles out
light floods in
Knot
the sailor tows the bowline
hitching tie to the tiller
not quite a fisherman
single, double overhand
a pretzel twist
salty as the sea, with an eye
for emergencies on the taut-line
two half inches, figure eights
makes the lark’s head spin
cowboy throws the lariat
running to the square dance
the midshipman slips
on the bight, bending the sheets
for his granny
ring around the hitch,
this binding loop
forget me not
This is the second year in a row I have made a promise to myself to write poems for each Inktober prompt. It’s also the second year in a row I have failed to inspire a similar amount of…
