My own morality; my own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me.
A small plane
drifts overhead,
gentle on the breeze.
Then, revs up,
soars high,
dives—
guns blaze.
Fiberglass fishing boat
shatters to shards,
chunks of what were men
scattered to the sea.
Another dive,
cannons blare,
the last flotsam
sinks.
The wake calms,
the ocean closes,
blue and full
again.
