Back again, yes, that I see, but change is not the same as return. What I know of you is your past. I believe the past because I know it. If there is a new you to meet that remains to be seen. Even a chameleon sheds its skin, though I doubt its intrinsic nature is altered much in the process. So flash your smile and wind your words into the thoughts of those with whom you have no history. I’ve been exposed before, the virus doesn’t conquer me, I am immune. Once bitten makes me wary when you come around again.
Pick a color and let it find you all day
When I was a tanker- I carried such a heavy load.
The diesel cycle ran at regular intervals
And my internal temperature was terrific.
The fuel sprayed and things went round and round
The cost was high.
Now my principal means of propulsion
Is the wind in my sails.
Conversion was difficult
Though I found the rigging and mast a fascination
The ballast was a heavy load to bear.
Cargo is something short lived
To be cast off at the next port.
Incumbent discretion is welded to my keel
And will go with me to every harbor.
As a tankard, liquid was transported or consumed.
As a cutter, dependability keeps me tacking into the wind.
Now my outlay is low and my rewards are high
I carry only what I need, I am free, a sloop upon the sea.