arrows indicate prevailing winds, arrows
over water, skirting and skimming, at liberty,
it seems, to make progress despite unseen

depths, degrees and political designations—

returning, it seems, by night or under
cloudcover or while you while away
in errand-run or task mismanagement

or personal worriment–inevitable arrows

knowing no center but feeling the push,
following the open, the opening, the unheard
announcement of safety in chance, safety

without center, an uncentered mooring,

inaccessible if studied or plotted or predicted–
this peninsula, this strait, this sound
claimed by France or Australia or Britain or

America—to sail the controversial industry

of slaughter, evangelizing open water
with encirclement administered
in scientific disregard–what now,

rookeries of first sea, first winter,
first whirl
of northward blowing winds?

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