Matthew Mazur

Sailing on Cape Cod

Always windy, the last sailing race of the year is finally here.
A sad day to think of, with summer coming to an end.
This day is always the same,
With gray clouds covering the sun.
Sailing fast over the five-foot waves.
All I can see are the sails of the other boats
With the waves crashing over them.
Most boats are white others are sky blue.
All there colorful spinnakers fly in the sky.
Looking onto the water to see boats upside down.
The salt water that splashed into my mouth becomes a sour taste.
The huge waves crash against the long brown rock wall,
While trying to get out of the harbor
Feeling trapped with no way out.
The whistle blows to start the race.


Copyright © 2002-2011 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose © 2002-2011 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission.