Squirrel it away, girly, in the earth.
             Tuck the acorns of seedy desire
                          into the ground of some secret

curve of your terra firma body.
             Hide it, honey, hide his briny promises
                          where the light from the waves won’t illumine

his grinning mind tacking into your sunset.
             The mate’s got himself a duffle
                           bag of practiced seaman’s tricks.

This dude is oceanic troubles, baby,
             bruises waiting to blue
                          your heart into dusky funk

in the stern of a schooner.
             Plant those seeds; you’ll need ’em
                          in the winter at sixty-five or seventy.

When he’s done dead and gone,
            more like a dirty old tree, chopped down, burnt up
                         & become a driftwood stump,

love is snuffed. No smoke is rising
            ever to feed your need for any sailor.
                         Say no more, sister; stay on land to sow.

Karla Linn Merrifield has 16 books to her credit. Her newest My Body the Guitar, recently nominated for the National Book Award, was inspired by famous guitarists and their guitars and published by Before Your Quiet Eyes Publications Holograph Series. She is frequent contributor to The Songs of Eretz Poetry Review. Website: https://www.karlalinnmerrifield.org/; blog at https://karlalinnmerrifeld.wordpress.com/