Mast

 

You took me around Gullah and Geechie where we

marvelled at the mausloea and

admired the acceptance of death perhaps

more natural amidst such

fecundity, and I remembered the

Flaybrick of my youth in all its

derelict and dangerous charm, last port of

so many sailors, some of the tombs

empty since their

putative occupants had

fed fish in some

out-of-the-way sea and the

teetering spire of the

ghost church looked like the

mast of a sunken ship

piercing grave waters.

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Comments

  • 1emeraldcity  On July 10, 2011 at 2:30 pm

    You had me going here, googling a few references, lol, but I do appreciate the almost mythological cast to the write, which you do so well in alot of your work. Very strong olfactory factors here. I could almost smell the dead meat. And the spires ..nice touch. Strong imagry. Arresting and interesting.

  • Jo Bryant  On July 10, 2011 at 9:41 pm

    I had to google to find out about ‘Gullah and Geechie’, but this was a really powerful poem – love it. 🙂

  • thesewordsiwrite2012  On June 1, 2013 at 5:25 am

    This is nice! Thanks for your feedback on my work too.

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