Fisherman-capped
and peacoat-clad
you blew into my life
like a gale
off Nag’s Head.

Your voice,
like solemn, seaward bells
cried “Danger! Danger!”
though your eyes were
beacons
inviting me
to harbor.

But before reaching
sanctuary
I foundered
on the shoals,
and my ship-wrecked heart
sank to the sea floor
like lost treasure.

Susan Dean Wessells