of a run aground ship and winged crows

marked depth of saltwater by a
yardstick in inches,
storm clouds receding like
playground children
into secret places, oak timber
painted white
painted red
ran aground in a mist,
in a rainy fog, crew abandoned…
fallen sails and 
mitered joints left
to rot in mud, on a forgotten
shore, winged crows 
to nest in a timbered mast,
reeds grab and choke
the oxygen 
out of splintered wood,
last breath taken, gasping,
a trickle of saltwater,
then a torrent, canvas hoisted
by an updraft, 
sets sail, no longer moored,
crows cast adrift 
in flight, wings like
oars in clouds.

Copyright © 12/06/2013 Ð Ṝ Ƣ Ñeedle & Ŧhread®


5 comments on “of a run aground ship and winged crows

  1. rabirius says:

    Again a beautiful poem and an excellent picture.

  2. There’s so many fantastic images in this writing to dwell upon & to allow the readers imaginations to get out of hand – this is what a good writer does – he/she draws a reader in to absorb every aspect of the writing with an allowance for the reader to come to their own conclusion. Poetry written from the soul brings out senses a person can never explain.

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