The Sea Still Holds Me
in its gills, awash in the moon’s hold
the wind gripping my ears, warning
of even more than storms to come.
But there is no storm now, ashore —
only the pull of the deep, thinking
sea fathoms, the depths where
creatures lie, the drowned sailors
gone below, agrogged for good.
Pearls in their eyes, golden songs
in their teeth, oh, such chanties
waking me from dreams
to floating anxieties here, above.