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Ghost Ship

ISSUE:  Summer 2005

My soul is a ghost ship
Set adrift on the seas of eternity.
A battered old wreck
Even the rats have abandoned,
Its one remaining mast
Like a cross on a pauper’s grave

I hold on to like a drunk,
Counting the little white caps
As they chase each other
Like butterflies downwind
With no land in sight
And the sky above them leaden.

At nightfall, I’ll take a stroll
Peeking into each porthole,
Searching for my cabin
While the ship pitches and rolls,
The glasses tinkle in the bar
And the potted palms sway.

I’ll lean over a pool table,
Or lie sleepless in my berth
Listening to my heart
As we lurch deeper into dark
Cresting another huge wave
That wants to drown us in.


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