The ocean
Rumbling with amoral suggestion
Sunk sirens sing songs
About people
And places
that ring and warm your ears
He met the horizon with all the arrogance
and ignorance
and frailty
That could be mustered
Pulling courage in lazy gulps
Before wading out
Into that churning
Inky
Growl
They found a letter
In a drowned brown bottle
Dredging through ghostly silt
Addressed to no one
And without postage
It thanked God for small favors
Eventually
We all disappear
In our own quiet way
