Laundry

Save yourself.
Adrift in these turquoise seas you may be,
Breathe;
The green does not wash out.
Though siren’s song rides on ripples’ back
Turn not your ear from the ocean’s chant -
That age-old lullaby that croons
On swooning tides; sailor’s cradle.

And if you happen to find yourself flailing
Under shade of skull and crossbones,
Know that the evils of man may swim
Into the spray of salty seas
and be lost,
But the green does not wash out.