Whale Fall

I've swam along the echoed wakes
of a thousand rumoured ancients.
Like gravel gently raked
all around my stonewalled sides,
I too shall wear away to places
where the strange shapes lie.

Sun seekers slashed the canvas sky,
thus spilling twilight tendrils.
Our schools in seizures dried,
so towards the shoals I fed.
As shallow Indies ebbed to pebbles,
I saw my corpus wrecked.

Would trusty pitchforks in hand
prod for sighs sighed unknown?
Fates rotting in sand,
from fears fled to land
tugging heartaches in tow?
Or merely harvest these bones?

To shield lit islands, thin moon shuts.
Thus sunk by heaven's eyelid,
my cries shall crease the dusk,
an unfolded crane I'll die.
In dreams I too am crowned an island,
where the strange shapes lie.

Beneath the sargassum hills,
where no light's columns reach,
a lone city builds,
its masons and mills
humming heartaches to sleep,
down in the dark, yawning deep.

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