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Currents to Nowhere

by Cynthia Proctor
Fog clung to the sexton's lens
and the sun faded pale gray
Slumped bodies awaiting gruel
thinned with each passing week
The air was still as our admiral turned
descending to his cabin
As waves hypnotically drummed the hull
rocking our work-worn crew
And through the mist came haunting sounds
'Twas the mermaid Lorelei!
She sang of our lands, far away
and of loved ones, left behind
Weakened minds grew numb
in Lorelei's trance
Who we toasted
with wincing elixir
And sleep set in
as lightning flashed
by Thor's disgust
Till the crows' nest
now, a rum soaked tomb
Watched bottles
roll side to side
Wind pipes mourning
once valiant men
Who's tattered sails
lay adrift
On rollicking currents
to nowhere.

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Copyright © 1999 by Cynthia Proctor. All rights reserved.