He has the night oils in his hair,
the rough sleep makes him feel wind blown,
as if he captained in his sleep,
standing hatless at the helm.
his hypnopompic eyes glow red,
saltwater seasoned and strained
from staring through the brackish night;
his ivory foot touches the floor
to anchor in the morning light,
alien coast where night parts day;
opposing forces of sun and moon
create in him a fitful soul,
a foamy neap tide in his heart,
a rise and fall, a rise and fall

About the Author
Ned Randle: I have a law degree from St. Louis University and a certification from the Writing for the Professional Program, Washington University-St. Louis. I have studied writing at Washington University, Webster University and Southwestern Illinois College. In the past I have published poems in a number of literary publications such as The Spoon River Quarterly, Circus Maximus and Seven Stars Poetry and Barnwood International Poetry Magazine. My chapbook, Prairie Shoutings and Other Poems, was published by The Spoon River Poetry Press, Bradley University.