Seafarer

The world stumbled on itself

weighted by its own shoes.

Let them          fall

to walk barefoot on the green

of hills

leaving behind clothes  

then skin

then bones  

until the soul 

began to wander

by itself like mist

across the shore

of lobster ships.

And what was I:

a seafarer without 

sea legs—

stumbling on boats

like the world not yet awake.