Ceyx And Alcione Lll Poem by Morgan Michaels

So she worried-really worried-when Ceyx announced at breakfast one morning his plan to go on a sea voyage. It made no difference that he was going to Delphi on business. She worried because she loved him dearly, and, better than him, knew the power of the winds, before which taverns collapsed and chairs, cats, small children flew through the airs like birds.
'No! '
'I must! I will! Delphi is definitely on my agenda. Frankly, it could make a big difference in our life style'.
'Absolutely not. I have a bad feeling about this one, trust me'.
'I'm going'.
'Then I'm going, too.'
'Forget it.'
Yes, no, etcetera...back and forth-it would make your head spin.
Finally she said 'ok.go'
The day of departure dawned. The ship was ready. Ceyx boarded and turned to bid his wife goodbye. She could barely look at him. Did she know what was to come? Maybe yes, maybe no.
'Don't worry, honey, it's only for a while. I'll come back to you- promise.
Maybe yes, maybe no. And the ship disappeared over the horizon, its sails filled with gentle winds. But this was before the days of radar,
weather forecasts and hurricane warnings, so the sailors could scarcely anticipate foul weather such as befell them next morning. Sure enough, a storm blew up, worse than any Alcione could imagine, spinning and capsizing the ship in a furor of ill-winds. In a short time the ship was in pieces and all its drowned hands walking the undersea currents. Ceyx himself was pulled under. His last word, as the wave crashed over his head was 'Alcione'. His fate was the dread of all mortals-to remain unburied in the sight of the gods, without even so much as an oar planted in the sand to mark the spot where the ship's carcass was cast ashore.