top of page

SAINT

SAINT

NOT a pretty statue

It’s name is blasted from the bow

Wood’s torn from off the hull

The mast is nearly eaten through

It’s sails shot through with holes.

It struggles on through time and life

In seas of calm and storm.

It’s galleys creak from endless strife

And still it ventures on.

(C) RLMcCormick

bottom of page