Fishing Up the Dead
A night poet discovers -
late arrivals,
words surfacing in the light of day.
Throw a grappling hook,
lower a life-raft
it will soon be too dark to see
to rescue
the drowning.
Words lay down their lives
enter another night
aboard ghost ship.
A nocturnal unrest
trawls for time tossed bodies,
attempts are made,
cold lips to warm
Upon the surf of another morn
a fully formed cadaver,
newly dressed
presents itself for further study.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2022
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment