Refloating of the Mangana
Its rusted iron ribs
hint a once proud shape
that now rings a hollow gut
filled and flushed
by tides for the last
ninety years.
Built in Glasgow,
this beached wreck dissolves
slowly in Port Adelaide mud.
My mind builds a ghost
in air, rising up
out of a muddy grave, hull
and deck firm on bones,
masts pushing high
into a bright morning,
open sea and wave
washing along its length
with me on board.
What other could refloat
such a wreck, give buoyancy
to a dream and sail a vision
across the mind's vast ocean.
I am a salvager,
faculty of the divine
to take what time has dissolved
into atoms and make
words into a ship
to sail wherever it has
a will to go, voyager
of the distances between
you and me.
Copyright © Paul Willason | Year Posted 2023
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