Dodge (Notevember 2023, #4)

Way up high on the wave
Something rocked my boat
I think I will go under now
Wrapped in a seaweed coat

Hidden reef, lurking rock
Late to see the signs
Rudder ripped from under me
Stolen by the brine

Looming on a battered cliff
A tower with no light
But my almost shattered skiff
Is drifting in the night

In the churning surf I go
Crying out for help
No one to grab hold of me
Except the strands of kelp
Nothing here but raging sea
And grasping hands of kelp