April 4 weather

I am not an ancient sailor
who ignores
the warnings of the elders

I am a man asking for reality.

Setting out alone
in strong headwind,
sleet piling up on my back
as I row towards a sheltered bay
on a distant outer island

halfway I give up
as a pair of goldeneyes
fly past me downwind
on their whistling wings

I head home,
to the warning
hearth
and a cup of tea