fathoms under the storm-side
under the blind lanterns of the mines
unlucky steamer, I lie
snuffed
cracked, blown bulb on a littered dance-floor
Atlantic drift, draw
the darkness over me
build me a scour,
a long-fingered shadow of sand
in my broken lea
sediment imprint
for future rocks a million
million wars from
now, invisible my ions glide
brine divides
rivets scab
even the noblest metals die brittle stars
small enough to
soft, in my heart
my saloon gives up
the gleam of polish
Who have you lost?
sister ships whisper down
secret channels, from Friendly Isles
to Cape Wrath
How many have you lost?
the Georges, the Edwards,
Christians, Riches, Wills…
Sisters, I am here with all hands
slipped from their skins like evening gloves
they burst to join the sea
two hundred and eighty one skulls bowling lightly
fives hundred and sixty two femurs shuffling
constellate, phalanges dot-dash
as far as crabs can drag
all , oh all my hands
what will happen now
to the cargo we held?
can bagged wheat be sown underwave?
will it grow into a sunken field
nodding ears silverly
as the bells on drowned churches
that chime in folk tales?
And who is left to reap?
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Royal Navy - First World War
