montellano

Near the noon hour, Riley stared through the spyglass for a better look, even though the Last Leg was close enough to see with the naked eye. “Nothing Cap’n. No flag, no change. Looks like all hands are on deck, most near the bow, ship’s heading straight for us.”

“How about the White Queen?”

“Spotter said she’s flying the warning. Has been since he could see her clearly.” Answering the captain’s unasked question, Riley deadpanned, “Ought to be here just in time to miss the slaughter.”

"Many Times"

Many times have I stood, 
on a deck pitching with the endless strength of the deep,
salt in the humid air, 
and surrounded by the humming engines of war.

Many times have I rested,
tired but strong, 
weary from long labors through bright and through dark
but heart-filled with joy.

Many times have I fought
in countries both strange and familiar
in the heat, in the cold, on the land, and on the sea
with home in my heart and over the horizon.

Many times have I slept,
Hours few but deep 
with a ready ear for alarms,
rocked to bed by the King and guarded by the watch.

Many times have I stood
upon strange ports and far-away shores,
with fellow men and women of war by my side, 
and set forth to live life as if I would never sail again.

Some day I will die,
In the small hours of a dark day
Hair grey and slightly out of regs,
A fallen sailor with a smile on his face.
I will lay there and die, and live many, many times.