rudders

by Austin Kuebler

Rudders, riggers, rhythm 

Seaward stop shy of the Sound

We turn at the gray gone green

And the blue chop

Back for the clumsy, untended beach 

With questions doubled down. 

Safety is warm and restless,

Untested and imagined,

Leaving the rumble brackish rolls

For tomorrow, to you. 

You’ve seen it now, 

A father’s decision at the brink. 

Tell me what it is like

When you see no land from either eye

At the opening of the sea 

Where sky is the only marker

And dust becomes the distance. 

It’s a famous line to cross, so I have been told. 

Austin Kuebler is a songsmith, musician, poet, manager, and coach who lives in Long Island, NY. This poem is from his upcoming collection, “Notes to Margaret and Songs for Marguerite.”