Reaching for Odessa II

A Work in Progress
68

2

Donal steered upwind fighting the sea surge

a curtain of rain shrouding the forecastle

when calmer waters were found in an island’s lee

where suddenly the wind swung aft 

drove his craft ashore through a narrow channel

onto a sandy beach between imposing cliffs 

entering a cove with quiet anchorage

where the punch of the wind had placed them

no island like this was on the charts

were they alive? had they crossed into legend?

sheltered from the storm 

what was this haven where a warm breeze ruffled

clear blue water glowing with light

dark sky overhead

firmly beached 

keel implanted in sand

Donal went ashore

plentiful driftwood available for a fire

made in a stone hearth already in place 

and an altar strewn with bones

for sacrifice

gathered around that hearth they lit a fire

with sparks from flints on dry wood shavings

igniting salt-stained kindling to make a blaze

piled high with wooden seashore detritus

flames leaping high in the gathering dark

watching and waiting for what would come next

there was a path they could see from the beach

leading up through bushes into evergreen trees

a well-trodden path they did not dare 

for they could see footprints there in the sand

a female foot they feared as much as a giant

if not Polyphemus who but Calypso or Circe

how else to explain what was happening

if this island existed 

they were far off course

on their way to Odessa 

they’d encountered brute force

Donal stood guard having taken the watch

cheerful if apprehensive 

they were safe because magic had brought them here

they would need magic and more to slay the minotaur

Dick Russell © Richard M Russell

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