Infinite Darkness of the Soul

The ever expanding works of Elizabeth Anne Easter. Poetry and musings of the stark reality of life.

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Poem - To Sea

I wait here, in this ship on a sea of icy glass.
The tattered sail - sewn from skins - breaks hard
    against the raging wind.

Fighting albatross, I pace the deck.
Still water belies the sky's rage, but hides
    its own rage below.

With my knife, I cut the sails, wanting to
    stay here in this place.
Quiet and serene, the old ship sighs, and I sink
    to the deck in a dreamy state.

So peaceful, this rotting vessel never knew
    such calm - I have never known this much calm.
The smell of salt, the air's chill, and the moisture
    upon the wood are all that I need while I wait for oblivion.

Originally written in November 2005

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home