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Created on: May 21, 2007
Luna's Maritime Sorrow -
Deep in the doldrums where horses learn to swim
and currents sleep,
sails flap lifelessly while men turn to ravens.
These equatorial latitudes
shroud lassitude beneath
ships adrift on stuporous seas,
their hold cargo swiftly rotting
like corpses under groaning planks.
I've learned not to chart still waters,
the celestial guides me away;
I turn to Polaris, together we shrive
mariners gone to their graves.
Learn more about this author, Melisande Luna.
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Poetry: Graveyards
by Helen Estlin
THE GRAVEYARD BY THE SEA
The winds of autumn stir the nodding trees
that guard the graveyard by the sea;
and so disturbed,
Graveyards
Gardens of memories
Fields of stone
Perpetual monuments
weeds overgrown
Elaborate tombs
Like silent museums
Acres
Old folks and the young all gather here to rest
Calm, still, peaceful, grasses whisper in a breeze
Songs birds serenade all
The wind blows through the headstone and ruffles my hair
but I let it because it's like your touching me.
You with your phantom
Open your eyes to what can be seen
the artistry and all it gleam
Hard intense works will surface
of marble stones carved
View All Articles on: Poetry: Graveyards
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