Lights on in the dog watch hours
have I fallen asleep at the wheel,
the vessel seeming to lurch and
shudder, not quite off course but
in need of a correction, a check of
the compass heading, seas getting
suddenly lumpy, the steady sliding
through the water, like a sharp knife
in oil, a sluicing sound, no sense of
resistance, not quite widdershins,
a sense of going in circles. Where is
the check list for emergencies, what
dream is it that I have just escaped
from, what disorientation is it that I
have steered in and out of; seems it
was my thoughts were disconnected
from my task, like news from afar, a
dove with an olive branch, a pigeon
with message attached to its leg, a
portent, possibility of a new reality,
these years of growing uncertainty
can make the dial sweep wildly, out
on the wide waters, just when course
setting seemed to be on automatic, a
message of import, no point in taking
this messenger by its thin neck and
giving it a quick twist, it will not change
the information, time must now be taken
to absorb slowly and quickly, grim reaper
images need to be put in perspective, in
the light of day, when obscured stars will
no longer be a problem, and the compass
direction can be timely reassessed. How 
easy it is to lose your footing, needing to 
reach for the hand rail moist from sea spray, 
for desperate reassurance lost by stealth.