Being preoccupied with Master Death
I think about the rough trade he plies -
two years ago a dear friend crossed the bar;
one year later another widow cries.
Now: you've joined the black freighter's crew
signed on for the end of life
and I've cast you off on darker seas:
a valediction for my wife.
A pale hand is rested on the strake,
the other raised to feebly wave;
you recede in silent grief - sails fill
as she bears you to your grave.
Will you dine at the Captain's table,
swashbuckler's sword above your head?
Or will you embrace the pirate's ways,
to share Blackbeard's ignoble bed?
I screw my eyes against the moon -
I'll not have long to wait because
another ship prepares its dusky sails,
skull and crossbones signalling fate.
Soon I'll be indentured for a trip of my own
becoming one of the novice crew -
sailing eternity's darkling ocean,
scouring horizons in search of you.
February 2023
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem