Image: 13-Gon/Math at Shut of Day

he 

calls his boat —

my-righteous/beauteous- 

Rose —

after me.

he sails this boat —

secure in wood —

downriver —

beyond calm water:

past-harbor-into-tumult/the-burning-

reverie . . .

a floating-stick/flame-on-water —

until — at long/last —

he 

settles upon

a safe shore in comfort.

he jokingly 

calls the place —

thank-god-the-land-Forget-Me-Not

— &

names his clapboard house 

Celestine-the-sky/

she-who-once-was-the-sea.