The Boat of my Birth
They say it happened on a night with no stars,
a night of mist that was almost rain,
and when it was over, my mother held me
above the waves, her quiet face stained with tears
as I lay wrinkled and red, crying a little, then quiet,
as petrels soared and squawked above the mast.
Steve Klepetar has a heart too soon made glad, too easily impressed.