Living - still - I breathe unwanted breath,
Useless vessel, sailing in a sea of death,
Timbers frail, my heart no longer fills with wind,
Hating self, I cling to fragile hope, my friend,
Embrace so empty - clutching only 'might have been',
Returned to earth, alone, I fall, one final sin...


Howard Herbert



Poem Copyright © 2001 by Howard Herbert All Rights Reserved
Classic Dutch Painting: Private Landing Party by Vlieger