The Tragedy Of A Star (Our Little Boat Still Drifts Ashore) Poem by Annie Cordelia Adams

sail on with life under your ship:
tasty Telling blue water;
as the wind shifts the waves
from north to west, its daughter

space surrounds us as we are,
and unnumbered pigments of white
and blue hued fires are busy lighting
up the sky

the earth only has but one moon
but the lights are as though one thousand
and our little boat drifts with current

there is no need for a sail or an oar
the tide pulls us to land ashore

the night water is like this mystical being
it's vagueness is repented by its mass
the completeness of the wind's great roar

and our little boat still drifts ashore

tonight the moon is far too large
to miss with eyesight the depth charge of beauty

and one star in the distance,
behind the large, white, towering moon
explodes beneath a cloud of smoke

a tragic circumstance,
the stars around it freeze

the cool, lucid, telling water
opens up its wide mouth
and roars with teeth like giants

until the aftershock slows
and the soft wind blows
while the crew lights candles
in the still, dark world

where the tasty telling fresh water
tickles the under side
of our little boat that still drifts ashore