THE SHIP
In the pale shadow of a canopy, I drowse through the long hours while the boat slips over the flashing sea. The rhythmic murmur of the waves steals through my dreams. I hear the voice of a sailor in the prow, the rippling hurry of water along the sides.
Beyond the shadow, the deck flares with light. The blazing sun of the south hangs motionless in the sky. The sultry air exhales the arid spaces of the desert.
But with the dusk, a cool breeze blows from the sea, the sail bellies, the cordage creaks and, before us, the dim forms of islands rise through the shadows.
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