Ritual on Deck before an Approaching Low

Southerly.
One man lights up another.
Hand upon hand, their hands
shielding the flame flickered small in the wind,
they bow together over the lighter.

Their skins are the same skin
where their hands touch. They touch
the wind, one glove doffed and tucked
under each man’s arm. Ice
flavors the air as gusts build
and bend sea spray to plate steel.

The first man drags warmth into his body.
The second man tips his own cigarette
into the fire sparked alive in his hand.
Both sailors’ lips purse
to receive blessing.
Nimbus grows dark.