Anchor

He was a powerful ship,

a three-masted schooner

with a cape that caught the wind

and glided, flew across the blue ocean,

a smooth and glassy surface unbroken

excepting the white sea foam trailing behind the ship

as he made his way toward greater horizons.

 

At the end of each trip he would rest

and lower his anchor to tightly hold

fast and steady through the night.

 

The anchor was well-crafted. It held the ship

comfortably in sunny, tranquil days

and sturdily in stormy violent nights.

 

Through days of calm

and days of storm

the anchor remained

holding the ship steadfast.

But a single chain link

that held the anchor

began to rust.

The defect went unnoticed.

 

And then the day came

when the anchor was lowered

but the chain snapped—

 

Into the depths sank the anchor—

 

The ship was alone without so much

as thread keeping him in touch

with the ocean’s bed

 

and he drifted

blown by the winds of time.

 

And when the storms came

he could not hold on

and he was lost in a sea of uncertainty.

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