Maelstrom
Storm in the Sea at Night by Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovsky
frustrated fury,
a tempest of emotion,
brews and swells in my mind
threatens thoughts with capsizing
and tugs tenaciously at a torn, tattered soul.
The helmsman,
white-knuckled,
grimaces.
Dissolving resolve sounds itself
in the chattering of teeth.
His face a pall, ashen, wearied, he tries
to wipe — is it sweat?…tears?…blood?…rain?–
the moment from his eyes,
yet it remains,
inescapable and merciless.
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