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Grit
There is no ship too big to make narwhals look small enough, or the Indian Ocean look pacific- Or even puffers less rough to the eye. I'll have to settle for shallow sailing- imagine a clipper inside the Maldives. I'll christen her Lydia and keep her hidden from hook-handed Bellemys, raping mates and sea dog macaws. I'll pretend I am Eve and wear purple while I ponder evolution. I'll resist subsidence and blow seeds to sightseers. I will found, Another Man's Treasure Hunt to pay Adam what I owe -- never hurts to have a theory in tow. When God gets word I'll hide inside the coral, wait for Darwin to find me. I'll evolve my trade from every angle and watch Lydia turn a beautiful shade of gray. 2003 Peggy Putnam Owen |