What I Captained

little-iceberg13 December 20126

The boat, almost,
did not make it
to shore, the bow,
nosed in mud,
the stern, half-sunk,
the scraping I’d heard,
and felt, a miniature
iceberg of a rock taking a bite
out of my Titanic.

However well I rowed,
what lay hidden,
lurking,
would have its way.

I assessed the damage,
repaired, as best I could,
the point of impact,
the scar left, a reminder,
I can’t ever be too cautious.

Philip Kuepper
(27 September 2016)

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