An almost three-year-old poem and the by-now-weekly update on Da Blog

Here's a poem I wrote in Summer 2004:

45 Degrees on Port

It is sunny.
Several families watch
For the cargo to approach.
A boat rocks
Over the horizon.

It is rainy.
There will be no sailing today.
Far beneath the waters,
A school of fish waits
For their catch for a change.

It is cloudy.
Sailors don’t know what to make
Of the white sky,
For the old saying about red skies
Never said a thing about white.

It is snowy.
No sailor has been here
For two months.
Beautiful patterns appear
On the water.

Gripping, isn't it?

Well, since I've only gotten a smattering of responses, it's not as though I'm really catering to very many people. In fact, while I'm extending my request to find out what projects you're interested in (two posts down) for another week, I'm also taking a special sample poll, available on the right side of Da Blog, to find out if I'm even going about this the right way.

I'm a root beer guy, myself...