Simmering
the
hearts
of
another 
secret,
it
asked 
me
to dinner.
Unable 
to move
I believe 
ghosts
are in
the breeze,
great 
with calm,
all but blue
remains.
From page 95 of The Long Way by Bernard Moitessier, translated by William Rodarmor (Sheridan House, 1995).
 
                
              