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7 March 2010

the ships rode the cresting wave
violent winds tore sails from masts
and in the holds and under decks
the refugees sat huddled, downcast
as each successive moment hurled
them farther into an alien world

the cataclysm thrust them away
far, far from their now-downfallen home
where no more would be feasting
or revelry under pagan temple domes
and so little hope of any to survive
much less to make atlantis again thrive

darkness covered the ships
as waves over the decks were washed
shaking with thund’rous jovian judgment
the battered ships, storm-tossed
until at last they rested on new land
a smaller, untamed, wild island.

a new home there to build
dreams of ancient glories, stilled

2 Comments leave one →
  1. 7 March 2010 03:56

    Atlantis – the memory that haunts us all. Good one, sir.

    • 8 March 2010 15:14

      Thanks! Yes, indeed, it has served as symbol and warning and creative fuel for a few thousand years now. For me, its a vehicle to explore feelings of exile and isolation. Thanks for reading!

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