Pirates Chest

Days upon the water
as the sun beats on my back
Sky has seen the colors change
from red to blue to black.
It would take a thousand years
to take salt from my skin
humidity and vanity
are slowly sinking in.
These boards on which I rest myself
are worn with each day gone
driven by a restless force
reluctant to go on.
Curl they do beneath the stress
perhaps they too must stretch
things to do prevent the crew
from naps they thought to catch.
In each I see a story
scars and wrinkles tell their tales
life like moving water
some have dips and some have swells.
Turn back to this lady though
she captivates my mind
becomes my music mistress of
a song I left behind.
Could it be real life I miss
or worry that I lack
smiling towards the water
as the sun beats on my back.