The gruff sailor said,
"No sail and she just floats all lazy like.
No rudder and she's a missile to nowhere."
I nodded.
"You see, you need strong sails AND a working rudder."
I nodded, again.
He continued,
"You get that the sail is a metaphor for passion,
and that the rudder is a metaphor for rationality, right?"
I said,
"I thought you, Crusty Sea Captain, were a metaphor for my subconscious."
This entry was posted in poem, Poetry and tagged poem, poetry by B Gourley. Bookmark the permalink.
