![]() Bone ReefA Poem by David Lewis PagetShe lived in a cottage, made with bones Her garden, ringed by teeth, All from the shipwrecked sailors floating In from the hidden reef, You couldn’t see when the tide was high But the rocks lay down, and tore, Down where the tide swept in the keels That had sailed too close to shore. The bodies were floating in for days When the storm would calm, abate, Bloodied and torn, their sailor ways Were left to unfeeling fate, The crows would gather and crowd the beach As they ripped each corpse to shreds, Tearing the flesh regardless, whether The man was alive, or dead. The beach turned into a boneyard, under A blue and perfect sky, With nobody willing to ask it, The obvious question, ‘Why?’ But she in the boneyard cottage knew When she harvested the beach, For every ship, as her cottage grew Left the bones, so white and bleached. And there on the hearth of the kitchen lay A skull that had been her own, The one true love of her darling years Who had promised to build their home, He denied her plea and had gone to sea, Was caught in a sudden storm, Came rolling over the reef one day With blood on his uniform. And now, whenever a distant sail Appears from near or far, She runs on out to the bluff and screams To God, ‘Wherever you are.’ She summons up from the depths a storm With wind and a blinding rain, And giant rollers that head for shore That carry her lover’s pain. It’s then that the skull on the hearth lights up, A glow from its empty eyes, And then a terrible screaming from A mouth, that had once been sighs, She knows he wants her to save the ship She’s luring onto the rocks, But whispers a curse at the fatal rip ‘On all dead men, a pox!’ David Lewis Paget
© 2016 David Lewis PagetReviews
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