Ghost Ship January 1, 2008
I found myself standing at my most Eastern shore.
Toes steeped in December’s salty licks.
Nothing and everything stood before me.
Two kinds of blues:
I shouted out your name,
casting the words like your ashes to the sea.
Can parts of you that are near enough…
What if all the flying things in the world
came down to roost at once?
Would the weight be enough
to throw the Earth off its tender axis?
Gravity might just let us go.
Then everyone could be in the sky,
like the birds, bugs, bats and angels.
We would never have to come back down again,
because we couldn't!
It wouldn't matter how many bottles we set a sail
with as many messages safe inside.