it’s something like a love letter,
the bard thinks to himself,
draping a well-worn jacket
over the captain’s shoulders
you’ve returned to me again
followed that bright beam
from an island lighthouse
out of the ocean depths
and over the wooden floorboards
to this table,
laden with the kind of soft
cookies you like,
and just the right amount of rum
and certainly there must be
a kind of magic imbued
in the way the captain
glances at the bard
with a twinkle in his eye
that hints at the star
he used to be,
when he sailed towards
a much closer horizon
and watching the captain
wrapped in his coat for a change,
the bard remembers why
he fell in love with the captain
all over again
and when the captain
has sailed out upon that
vast and salty ocean once again,
the bard will press his face
into a jacket sleeve that
the smell of the captain
still lingers on,
and pretend that fabric
were his wind-worn skin instead
and think to himself, yes,
there is surely something like a love letter in this