Christmas Day, no ships anchored in the bay which
has crested waves that turn into cream like spray
when reaching sandy shores.
The crew wouldn't have minded that so much,
as it is they are on ships that roll and pitch
endlessly in the Atlantic sea, waiting for Yule to be
over when normal trading begins.
Today there are no revolts in Africa, and there is no
war in Syria, because bad news has been suspended,
but there is a movie about a carpenter trainee who
became a preacher, but since I have seen the film before,
I will go for a walk and try not to think of seafarers' lack of
sleep, or poverty that hides in the nooks of Cascais, a town
famous only because a king once spent a summer there.
