Reefing the Topsail

I jerked awake to the bosun’s bawling
“All the hands on deck.
Lay aloft to reef the topsail
Afore we ground and wreck.”

My mate an’ me raced up the shrouds
On to the topsail yard.
We worked along the footrope,
No time our life to guard.

The ship was heeling before the wind
Driving on a starboard tack.
With blooded fists, we beat the sail
Eighty feet above the deck.

'Twas clutch and grab ‘til fingers raw
Subdued the straining sail.
Gripping legs on a backstay,
We slid to the ship’s rail.

”Good Lord,” Paula, my neighbor called
As I surveyed my rig.
”Why fight that tarp on your RV?
It’s more than I can dig.”

Each time the wind displaces it
I climb up to retie.
And hear in the wind the seamen's tales
Of those who worked so high.