The pirate round
is marked on our hearts
maps etching both dangers
and treasures. Deviation
from the same old voyage
is discouraged – never change
what’s familiar. It is a comfort.
Even if the comfort is forever
battling a hundred navy ships,
and our treasure is ten tons
of tarnished brass, weighing
us down – stick to the maps,
you know the way home.
*
I’m doing it now. I warned people. Today I’m catching up again and you’re getting not one, but THREE poems drawing on pirate traditions. They’re definitely drafts because I want to make something of them, and they’re in no way there yet.
kate's thirty poems in thirty days 