Maritime Massacre

Sometimes poems just fall out quickly

Maritime Massacre

How many sprites swim in a tear?

How many can I shed a year?

Do they have pain or feal fear

as their pools splash on my shirt?

I hope it doesn't hurt them

if should I cry into the dirt when

my sleeves are fully moistened.

Millions dead with every drop

I hope they know I cannot stop

or even slow my rain of terror

on these salty little seafarers.

They are the bearers of my grief,

and though their suffering is brief,

the chorus of their tiny screams

in evaporating streams

are the soundtrack of my night.

A massacre of water sprites.

Author's Note

"rain" instead of "reign" was on purpose

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

the ship of grief sails...the tears are like little sailors thrown overboard
into a sea of screams.
Tears described in such perfect metaphor.
this poem "rains" supreme.
j.

[Robert Haigh]

A surreal poem, with some interesting imagery - and yes, I got the "rain" play on words as I read it.