The open sea is an odd and peculiar place on a full moon’s windless night. The silver moonlight, the gray decks and implements, the long night hours of the midnight watch, all conspire to fool the eye or perhaps entice the imagination.
Shimmering scenes prophetic, suggesting varied sinister ways and means of demise, dance silently about the rigs, ropes, and ladders, and languish a moment at dawn’s first breaking only to become rust and bolt, winch and cable, at the first sea bird’s cry.
January
19
Mood from the midnight watch.
— Rick Silletti
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— Rick · Jan 19, 06:45 am · #