An anchor rests upon my left foot,
center of the crown atop metatarsals
while the shank steels up to my knee
to measure the length of tibial boxes.
Its weight causes a limp in my walk.
Anchoring my bones,
it weighs against my walking away
and ties me to the hull
where I see pass by
ocean life abounding
color and coral free waves
of undulating weed and water
to please my senses five.
Though tethered to a ship,
I am free to enjoy, observe,
swimming gleefully
in surging seas.
credits:
In the gaze of the other 
