Ghost Ship

The rock thrown out of the deep, pummeled by iron waves that seek to tear it back beneath the surface
A ship glides empty like a wooden desert, lost upon swells that cannot feel it, bleaching dry when the sun can find its way through the gray above
Sea-soaked sails with holes like the moon fly above flags the color of blood
Ahead the rocks, and the sea left to decide what fate to grant the vessel adrift on its roiling crests, who has seen more of its far-flung ports and hidden reaches than any other
Bow pointed at the rock, full speed ahead on the moving slope of a wall of water, destruction in the air, timbers groaning in protest
At the last moment Calypso changes her mind, bears the vessel beyond the cliffs, places her gently to rest on sand like crushed opal
The empty ship releases its cargo into paradise: ghosts she carried over the waters seeking their way onward

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