Who keeps the tally of all the names
appearing on the list of those engulfed,
waterlogged below the shimmering emerald plane
brimming with secrets buried in Davey Jones’ treasure
just offshore where the mountains meet the sea?
Explorers from foreign lands,
Merchant Adventurers and
Masters of the sea,
disregarding weather cues,
weary widows walking, teary eyed
and overwhelmed by heartbreaking loss,
submerged now beside unfortunate pirates
who walked the plank into the
deep mystique of Davy Jones locker.
Lives cut short by –
the length of a glassine gangplank,
misstep on a slippery deck, or
an unsuccessful struggle
through stormy seas,
sending them drifting downward
weightlessly deeper and deeper still,
below Maine’s rocky shoreline,
endlessly swirling, churning
in powerful tidal currents
past where the coral gardens grow,
sole witness to schools of blind fishes
who swim throughout Davy Jones locker,
fathoms below, in icy green water
at the bottom of the sea.
Swan Island in the Kennebec -- 