23   Sea-Shanty

Splash     (the clock on the wharf strikes midnight)
no other sound     but that anchor going down
in the lagoon     (and the medusa ringlets, the
dark petals of water & salt     soon vanish)

& mirrors     vaguely rippled & dispersed
the granite on the promontory     a hand     blessing or
gathering     at the prow, the poop of some vessel
a-tilt in the stiff wind     of a fresh curse

harpoon     Ahab     captain     follows
the snapped     iron going     down into the hold
of the sea

which swallows him
surrounded by fold     on whispered     fold of
blind     fingers     (& a reedy sigh)

Henry Gould | Island Road 24
Contents | Mudlark No. 6