THE WINE DARK SEA

The sea, an abundant

graveyard of

bones

once clothed in flesh

and driven

by thoughts

less than the sand

in which they rest

to cross the depths

with sail

and oar

to shores rising

from the

imagination as

the horizon. How

many trips

over the dark

waters

until the

storm, the

mistake -

the wrong island,

the shoal

the rocks and the splintering wood.

Few of

them could swim.

The rocky

shore

rose deep

for those who could.

So, scattered

bones amid

olive oil amphorae,

a stone anchor

resting beside

the bones;

it bounds

them to the hull

of life

that was.

25.08.2018