sailor

a pit formed in the center of the sailor’s stomach
as he began to furl in the headsail
the flying jib was the trickiest
he made sure the downwind jib was already wrapped
but he dreaded the flying jib
even the topsails weren’t so bad
didn’t require the
finesse
but he was a sailor
and there would be many storms
like this one 
darkening on the horizon
the lightning spearfishing in the waves
he hurried, contorted, and it happened anyway
the clewline tangled near the bowsprit
he had complained to the captain before
it made the captain complain
so here he was
terrified
as he shimmied the bowsprit
fixed the tangle
shimmied back down
sighed
he gazed at the coming downpour
and felt the chill of the squall