180th MERIDIAN
Out at sea, across the line
I note the gain,
Whether sunshine or rain,
Or going another way,
a day is lost.
But I do not count the cost,
not being aware
Of what or who I am,
or even to care.
How did I get this far?
I toast the day, gain or loss,
with wine in a jar
Because out on the sea
on waters calm or stormy
An imaginary line changes time.
The opportunity mine
I thought was lost,
But again, again I failed to
note the cost;
Disillusioned once again
by what is gone
And what I gain.
The line—imaginary,
the sailor ordinary
Is alone takes
the change in stride
Because it is just a ride—
across an empty sea.
The Green Hills Philosopher 
No comments yet.