two ships
If you protest our introduction,
beating against the intransigence
of a well–meaning (well, meaning no
harm) and not uninebriated
friend, know I take no offense.
Tonight we intended to make light
work of a dear and enviable
thing, to send off in a marriage bark
two loves upon (or just beside)
the waters where they met.
But then it was insisted that we
meet here too, seven leagues and seven
deep in drink to speak for myself: just
so deep as unmoors mouth and mind, not
near so deep as courage rests
a hulking wreck just faintly spied from
the surface of our conversation
(can you call it conversation when
winds rage and rather than collide we
tack to pass by cloudless skies?)